


Girl

by Maya Tawi (mayatawi), Viridian5



Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: Drama, Genderfuck, Genderswap, Humor, Kink, Mind Games, Missionfic, Multi, Psychic Abilities, Siblings, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-22
Updated: 2010-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 86,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayatawi/pseuds/Maya%20Tawi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aya's changing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Started: 3/2/03  
> Finished: 7/22/03
> 
> Spoilers for "Mission 11: Abkunft-- Breaking the Spell," "Mission 12: Abschied-- Why," "Mission 13: Bruch-- Rain of Revenge," "Mission 16: Schatten-- Return to Battle," "Mission 17: Kritiker-- Pride With No Name," "Mission 21: Trane-- Memories," "Mission 22: Miteid-- Final Reconciliation," "Mission 23: Schraube-- Everything for Love," "Mission 25: Ende des Weiss-- To the Knights," and "Strafe."
> 
> The unholy genesis of this story came when Maya was watching _MST3K_ one night, half-asleep. She had a bizarre idea and later on made the mistake of mentioning it to me: What would Aya do if he suddenly turned into a woman? I started throwing comic dialogue. Maya asked if I wanted to co-author. The fic was meant to be a short, completely comic piece. Heh.

Aya saw the sword descending towards his head and threw himself to the side, letting his body's survival instincts take over. The blade whistled through the air millimeters from his ear; he flipped backwards, his own katana at the ready, hoping to strike before his attacker recovered and end this quickly.

The first flaw in this plan came when his body somehow _shifted_ and he fell gracelessly out of his somersault, landing on his ass.

His opponent, one of Minobe's bodyguards, looked surprised-- as well he should, considering he should have been holding his guts in his hands by now. Aya growled, leaping to his feet--

And immediately toppled over again, tripping over his boots and seemingly his own body. The bodyguard started to snicker.

This would not do.

Aya pushed himself up, more carefully this time, ignoring the way his shirt pulled oddly across his chest and his belt had settled lower, along with his pants. Whatever had gone wrong could be dealt with after the mission. Right now, he had to kill Minobe, and to do that he had to get past the bodyguard.

He braced himself, gripping his katana with both hands, facing the bodyguard who for some reason _wouldn't stop grinning_, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

He froze.

The bodyguard's face twisted into a sneer. "Think I won't shoot a girl?"

Aya frowned, confused. And then a flash of light arced out of the air, wrapping around the gun and yanking it away. The bodyguard yelped, his hand scored by the wire, and Aya lunged forward and buried his katana in the man's gut up to the hilt.

And, once again, lost his balance and sat down hard.

Yoji rushed in. "What's wrong? Are you hurt holy God you've got tits."

"What are you talking about?" Aya growled, pushing himself to his feet. "Are you high?"

Only when Yoji's eyes widened even further did he realize that his voice was a full octave higher than it should have been.

Slowly Aya looked down at his chest. Two loose lumps of flesh strained against his tight shirt where there had been no flesh before.

With a growing sense of dread, he slowly slid his hand down the front of his pants, ignoring Yoji's fascinated and horrified stare.

Nothing there, just a smooth curve. Aya stopped his downward motion before he could really shock himself. Or sexually harass himself.

Aya closed his-- her-- eyes and said fervently, feelingly, "_Shit_."

He didn't open his eyes when he heard Yoji calling Omi, his voice sounding strangely choked; he was too busy trying to disappear into the ground.

  


* * *

Omi ran, though he kept an eye out for any guards that might still be around. Yoji had sounded so strange.... Omi nearly skidded past the right door.

Yoji was smoking like a chimney, sucking on his cigarette as if his life depended on it, but he stood upright and seemed uninjured, just disturbed. Aya stood too, but he stared at the floor and seemed somehow... diminished. Please let Aya be okay. Aya had his arms crossed over his stomach, under his-- under his--

Breasts. Breasts large enough to seriously strain the fabric of Aya's shirt.

"What happened?" Omi asked.

"Hell if we know," Yoji said.

Aya glanced up, looking miserable and confused, then returned his eyes to the floor. He was beautiful. _Still_ beautiful, but beautiful now in a different way. It made Omi's heart turn. Omi had loved Ouka, but Aya affected him on another level... not that he expected anything to ever come of it, not when he was verging on 18 but looked 12. Aya no doubt saw him as a kind of younger brother and might not even be capable of being attracted to a guy.

But those breasts were.... How could Aya be so large while being so thin? Then again, what with the whole turning into a woman thing, the size of Aya's breasts was hardly the strangest part. Not that they were freakishly large. They looked really nice. _Really_ nice.

It was a good thing that Omi had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to both men and women ages ago, or he'd be even more screwed up looking at Aya now than he already was. He glanced at a probably traumatized Yoji and hid a smile.

But what was he thinking? Aya needed help and support. Being Aya, he'd never think to ask for it. Thus, Omi had to just give it.

He wanted to touch Aya's arm with a comforting hand but didn't know how the gesture would be taken, so he just said, "We're cleaning up now, so we're almost ready to go. We'll get back home, figure this out, and fix it, Aya. Don't worry."

"Thank you, Omi," Aya answered softly, his voice different as well. Amazing. And disturbing.

When Ken caught up and took a good look, he was obviously bursting with the urge to say something but stayed silent. Good thing for him, since if he'd said something stupid, Omi would have decked him. Yoji would be bad enough once he got over the shock, but no one could govern Yoji's mouth. Not even Yoji.

  


* * *

For a long time no one spoke, not during the ride, not when they reached the trailer. Omi said only the raw minimum over the connection as they tried to reach Manx. Once Manx, via their video connection, saw Aya, she went silent too. Aya was scowling at his now too large boots, avoiding the others' curious stares.

After sitting in their mission room for a while, Aya finally muttered, "This is the stupidest power ever." Talking might be better than brooding. At least it would be different.

"Yeah, pretty much," Ken said.

Omi, eyeing Aya, said, "I think it's cool."

Yoji shook his head. "So you're sure it's a power, Manx? Like the kind Schwarz have?"

"Well," Manx said. "Not _exactly_."

Ken snorted, and Yoji said, "Tell us the truth, Manx. Did you have any idea that Aya was going to turn into a werewench?"

Aya's head snapped up, eyes already narrowing in betrayal.

"Not a clue," Manx said quickly. Aya wasn't convinced. "Kritiker doesn't deal with this kind of thing. We've only recently seen that such powers exist."

"Great," Ken said. "Weiß finally gets a power, and it's the power of feminine wiles. That's a help."

"No, this is good!" Omi protested. "If enemies are trying to seduce Yoji, Aya can turn into a girl--"

Yoji interrupted, "--and flash his rack at me! That's brilliant!"

Aya growled.

Yoji rolled his eyes. "No sense of humor."

"None at all," Aya snapped.

"Nice rack, though."

Aya growled again, then asked, "Will I change back, Manx? Am I--" He hesitated. "Am I stuck like this?" He didn't want to think that far ahead, but he had no choice.

Manx spread her hands. "I'd be inclined to say it's temporary, if only because we don't know of any power that only works once. But Aya, we've never seen something like this before. You're in uncharted territory." She paused. "What were you doing when you changed?"

Aya really wanted to get out of his shirt, but he knew he couldn't do that here without earning further annoying comments from Yoji. If only his-- the breasts would stop swaying for a moment. How the hell did women live with these things?

"Nothing. The usual," Aya said irritably. He bent to take off his boots and stared at his smaller feet.

"Killing people," Yoji supplied.

"Did you feel anything?" she asked.

"No," Aya answered, then shook his head. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

"It's important to figure out what happened," Omi said.

"With any luck, I'll wake up tomorrow as myself again."

"If we're not lucky?"

"You know, like usual?" Yoji added.

"Then we figure out what we do next," Aya answered. "Right now, my clothes are all either too tight or too loose, and the thought of killing you all is looking very attractive, so I'm going to bed."

"Aya, avoiding this won't help," Omi said. Omi meant well.

Omi was very lucky that Aya's physical changes made him more likely to trip over his own feet than succeed in hurting anybody. "This won't be 'avoiding'. This will be 'sleep'. In the morning it might become avoiding."

"I would have thought that being a woman would make you calmer and more nurturing," Yoji said.

"Being a eunuch might do the same for you. I'm game to find out."

"Whoa, Aya." Ken grabbed him and received two handfuls....

"Ken!"

"They're so there! I didn't aim for them!"

Aya shook him off and said, "I'm going to bed before the situation degenerates further." He stalked out, certain that they'd talk about him while he was gone. After all, they'd talked about him while he was there.

"I just had a terrible thought," Yoji said. "Aya on the rag."

Aya was definitely better off away from the room.

He showered the blood and sweat off as quickly as he could, unwilling to touch himself more than he had to. He didn't look down. Being like this felt like being mutilated and being forced to molest some poor girl at the same time. The bizarreness of his situation was just starting to hit him. With the life he'd led, he'd thought he could take pretty much anything in stride, but this... was just too weird. He didn't have words. And everyone was treating it like just another _problem_ to solve, or worse, take advantage of. _Oh, Aya's a girl now. How can we work with this?_

Fuck, Yoji was right about the breasts. They were huge.

Yoji would have shot himself soon after realizing that his dick had disappeared.

Aya didn't let himself wonder where his had disappeared to.

Nothing fit, so Aya wore a large T-shirt and no underwear to bed. To his bunk, really. Living in this damned trailer, he didn't even have a room to himself to hide in, so he put his pillow over his head to block out the sound of the murmurings from the next room.

Tomorrow he'd be a man again. He concentrated on it. It would be so.

  


* * *

When Aya woke up, his arm brushed one of his nipples through his shirt and sent waves of feeling coursing through the wrong places, lower and deeper. "Fuck," he spat. He was still a woman, and he was apparently horny, and he was in no way prepared to deal with either.

Relieving himself was a nightmare. Now he really understood castration anxiety. At least this body knew what it had to do and did it.

Everyone else had already woken up-- the other bunks were empty-- so Aya could be alone while gathering clothing to try to face the day with. He settled on boxers that were held up partly by a pair of pants he belted tightly in at his waist, a T-shirt under his turtleneck sweater, and sandals. He rolled up his sleeves and pants legs, took a deep breath, and walked out to face breakfast and his teammates.

And tripped. This would not do. He'd learned to be aware of his movements during sword training. He could fix this. Just because he was a woman didn't mean he had to be a klutz. Once he truly felt the differences in his center of gravity, he started to adjust. Better. Much better.

Yoji opened his mouth as soon as Aya walked in, so Aya forestalled him with "Yes, I'm still a woman. And I'm going shopping."

"There are so many things I could say to that, I'm not even going to bother," Yoji said with an insolent grin.

"I don't know how long this will last, and I don't have my own living space anymore, so I might as well make myself as comfortable inside this... situation as I can."

"It's called a 'body,' Aya." Yoji raised an eyebrow. "And a really nice one too...."

"Whatever."

"I could go with you," Omi said. "Help out. You have enough stress without dealing with salespeople."

"Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I'm moody."

"No, you're moody because you're Aya," Yoji said. Ken just said nothing and kept his hand in front of his mouth.

Aya would deal with Ken later too. "You're not coming along, Yoji."

"What? I just want to be helpful!"

"I'm sure."

"So I can?" Omi asked, almost bouncing.

"Yes. You're helpful." Aya's sister or Sakura might have been a better choice, but he hadn't seen them since Esset fell. Sakura wanted things from him he couldn't give her, while Aya... Aya had a chance at a normal life at last now that she'd woken up from her coma, and she didn't need an assassin brother tainting it with blood and darkness. She also didn't need to hear that her brother could turn into a sister.

But being back in Tokyo left him so tempted to see her sometimes.... No. This way was best.

Yoji said, "You know, I actually have some experience in this sort of thing--"

Aya stared at him. "Involuntarily transforming into a woman?"

"Shopping for women's clothes, dumbass."

"Not listening."

Ken said sweetly, "Something you want to tell us, Yoji?"

"For _gifts_," Yoji snapped. Ken and Omi sniggered, and Yoji rolled his eyes and subsided into sulky silence. Aya started to make himself breakfast, glad of the reprieve.

The breasts-- he refused to think of them as his-- kept bobbing around distractingly as he moved. He scowled down at them, trying to keep them in place by sheer force of will. It didn't seem to have much effect.

First on his shopping list: some kind of restraining device.

  


* * *

People kept staring at him, which only made him feel like more of a freak. Omi put a hand on his arm. "It's because you're pretty and strangely dressed. Don't worry about it."

"I just want to get this all over with." How long could it take?

Then Aya saw the masses of women's undergarments and knew true despair. "Sizes," he muttered. "Of course they come in different sizes."

Omi had strayed off somewhere but Aya didn't mind. Better that Omi didn't see him panic. He'd survived situations that would have killed other people or crushed their spirits, and he'd taken deadly vengeance against the man who'd demolished his family. Shopping for underwear would not destroy him.

"--my sister," Omi said as he led an older woman over.

"It really is an amazing weight loss," the woman said as she looked at Aya's clothing. Aya fought the urge to back up.

"It was an _intense_ diet and exercise regime," Omi answered, all innocence. "But now she doesn't know what sizes she should wear."

"That's easily fixed. Please come along with me." She started walking toward the back without once glancing back to see if Aya followed. Seeing Omi make a shooing motion, Aya did follow, if reluctantly. At least he saw now why Omi had wanted to go to a small shop instead of a chain store.

"Take off your top," the woman said once they'd reached a changing booth.

"Excuse me?" Aya asked, outraged.

"Omi told me you're shy, but it's fine. I just have to measure you."

"I only have a T-shirt on under this."

"You're not-- with how big you-- All right." The pleasant, even glaze of customer appreciation returned to her face.

Aya sighed and removed his sweater, thankful that he'd worn the T-shirt under it in an effort to restrain the breasts a bit. This woman might be old enough to be his mother--don't think of that-- but he still didn't see the need to bare his chest to her. He didn't often bare his chest to others when he was male.

He tried not to squirm as she applied her measuring tape. The breasts were absurdly sensitive and seemed to enjoy the handling. How the hell did women get anything done? As she turned her attention to his waist, she murmured, "An intense exercise regimen, yes," which made him feel obscurely better. But later he still had to see how much strength he'd lost and whether he could still handle his katana. The thought of not being able to fight chilled his blood; what else was he good at?

When he left the booth, he even knew his new shoe size. It would make things much easier. Then he saw Yoji fingering something lacy, and he scowled.

"You should get some pretty things," Yoji said.

"Why would I need something with lace? I already feel like more than enough of a girl."

Yoji picked up something pink and frilly. "This is nice."

The man had no taste. "It's pink. I'm a redhead." Was he actually considering these things? "I have to shoot myself now."

He would get some sedate and tasteful things in white or beige. Omi had said that he'd need a sports bra. When Aya had asked how he'd known that, Omi had colored slightly, mentioned gym class, and changed the subject.

"Get _something_ pretty," Yoji said, wrinkling his nose at Aya's choices.

"Who am I trying to impress? Next you'll tell me I need to wear makeup, _which I am not doing_, thank you."

"Why not? Omi could show you how."

Aya paused at that thought, then dismissed it. "I'm not going to be like this for long. There's no point in learning an entirely new lifestyle."

"You need to buy at least one skirt."

"Why? I prefer to keep my ass covered."

"I prefer--" Yoji stopped abruptly when Aya jabbed him hard in the stomach with the end of a hanger.

Aya combed through the bras looking for something suitable and muttered, "Does any of this come without underwire?" With how sensitive the breasts were, he didn't want something hard beneath them.

Yoji grinned and moved closer to look at the tags. "Not at your size. My, oh my, Aya. You're my kind of girl."

Aya elbowed him in the stomach hard. "Any kind of girl is your kind of girl. Go home."

"I'm here to offer moral support."

"You offer neither. I won't shop if you're here."

"Ayaaaaaa...."

"No."

"You're cute when you're pissed off."

Aya turned away from the bras, crossed his arms... under the breasts, and stared at Yoji. "I won't shop for your entertainment."

Omi appeared. "Yoji, stop tormenting Aya! He'll never buy anything while you're here!"

"That's right," Aya said, "I won't buy a thing, not a stitch. No underwear for you to wonder about. I'll just keep wearing my own things and look like I'm drowning in them."

"You don't play fair," Yoji whined.

"Tough," Omi said.

"Fine, fine, but I'll want a report later."

"Yeah, yeah," Omi said, unimpressed. It saved Aya from having to lie.

  


* * *

Bad enough that most of the clothing seemed to be designed to make a woman look like a bimbo or somebody's mother, but.... Aya growled as he looked at himself in the changing room booth's mirror. "Omi, I was just measured. I know exactly what size I am. This pair of pants claims to be the same size, brand, and cut as this other pair of pants but _they don't fit_. The same applies to this bra as opposed to this other bra. What kind of shoddy, half-assed workmanship is this?"

From the other side of the door came "Why do you think women spend so much time shopping for clothes?"

"Because they enjoyed it, I thought."

"You have so much to learn. You want me to get you some different ones?"

Would the humiliations never end? Aya didn't particularly want someone fetching clothes for him, but to leave the booth to go foraging for other sizes he'd have to put all of the womanly regalia back on, then strip them off again once he got back. It would be more efficient to let Omi work for him. "Yes."

  


* * *

Clad in some of his new clothing, Aya felt a little less clumsy and constricted. The new boots especially helped. Mastering walking involved more hip action than he'd originally expected, yet he seemed to be picking it up now that he didn't have to concentrate on keeping his shoes on by sheer will. He hated the press of wires but had to admit that they restrained the breasts' unwelcome swing. He'd chosen a boyish style for his shirt and pants--for obvious reasons--and wore a new long coat he could use for missions.

As much as buying the coat felt like a betrayal of his own body, like giving up on returning to normal, practicality won. He didn't know how long he'd be like this, and his katana needed to be disguised.

Omi gawked as Aya wandered the floor of the store he'd bought most of his mission wear from. The women's fashions looked less practical than the men's did, but he still felt drawn here. It _was_ good to be back in Tokyo.

"Is there something you want to say?" Aya asked Omi as he picked up a pair of black gloves that had studs along the knuckles.

"I know you have a kinky side. I just didn't know where you went to satisfy it."

"Straps are practical," Aya answered as he took down a black leather shirt that fastened at the neck that way and ran a finger along one of the buckles.

"For what, easy access?" Omi shook his head. "I wish I could pull this look off."

"You can do whatever you like."

"And look like a pinup for a child porn magazine."

"As if you don't already?"

"I know you're upset about what's going on so I won't hold that against you. Otherwise, I might say that losing your dick doesn't mean you have to be one."

Aya snorted. "Sorry."

"You sure you don't want to try a skirt?"

Aya had a weird urge to be shocking--or maybe the urge to render Yoji speechless wasn't so weird--and he had a sudden image of himself in artfully torn stockings, high-heeled boots that laced to the knees, that skirt over there made of long vinyl strips that would reveal and conceal depending on his movements, a tight shirt, black eyeliner, and black or red lipstick. Some look that was feminine, sexy, but also dangerous and aggressive, utterly unlike the frilly, condescending garments Yoji had pressed on him.

"I'm losing my mind," Aya muttered to himself.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Omi answered cheerfully.

  


* * *

"Are you gonna show Yoji those shirts?" Omi asked as they left.

"Only if he begs nicely. Maybe not even then." At least he'd left the stockings, heels, and skirt behind. He hadn't completely taken leave of his senses. The pair of boots he'd bought had a heel reminiscent of the heel height on boots he usually wore. "I might just taunt him with possibilities."

"That'll only turn him on."

"If I ignore him, I turn him on. If I discourage him, I turn him on. If I encourage him, I turn him on. Is there any way to win here?"

"Maybe if you left the country? No, then he'd idealize you while you were gone, and it would be worse."

"Thanks, Omi."

"No problem."

Aya noticed a woman watching him and looked back. She leaned enticingly against a motorcycle, her hips cocked forward, her eyes smoldering with attitude and what might have been appreciation. He liked her aggression.

Omi laughed. "If Yoji were here...."

"What?"

"He'd want to watch."

"What?"

"You just checked out that lesbian. And you put more swing into your walk."

"It's good to see that I'm not the only person going insane."

"Sure, sure. But he'd be laughing over how you had to become a woman to become a sexual being or something."

"Yoji doesn't know anything."

"Really," Omi purred, his wide eyes looking a little less wide, almost sultry.

"And I'm not telling you. My sexuality has nothing to do with anything."

"C'mon, Aya. It's not like I wanna know just because I wanna know. It's all about knowledge."

"It's all about you being a teenage boy."

"Said from the grand height of, what, 20 years of age? And don't be so sexist. Hey, don't hit me!"

  


* * *

Aya stumbled into the kitchen, set his sheathed katana on the table, and rested his head against the refrigerator. Pathetic. He hadn't lost quite as much strength as he'd feared he might have, but he'd lost enough to make his katana work awkward. He'd lost height and reach and tired faster as he'd struggled with what felt like the greater weight and length of his own damned sword. Watching his wrist shake during the extensions had made his heart clench. He needed remedial weight training immediately. At least the sports bra had restrained the exuberance of the breasts, though moving the rest of his body around while having what felt like a tourniquet fastened around the top of his chest hadn't helped his performance either.

He stared down at his new gloves and thought that he might start to wear them all the time just so he didn't have to be shocked every time he saw his smaller, shapely hands.

"Hey, Aya, what's wrong?" Omi asked. He really had abysmal timing.

"I'm fine," Aya answered, but his voice shook as much as his fatigued, unnatural limbs.

"You're handling this really well, you know."

Aya coughed; years ago, it might have been a laugh. Sure he was handling this well. But he said, "Yoji would have killed himself."

"Immediately." Omi took him by the arm and sat him down. He'd noticed that Omi had been much freer with him since he'd turned into a she.

He could scar Omi's budding sexuality just by existing.

"You're so tense," Omi said. "You want a back rub? It's not a scam, I swear."

It was Omi. "All right."

"Take off your shirt."

"Very funny."

"It'll help, and I know you have a bra on under it."

"How do you figure that?"

"You're not, uhm, swinging."

"I hate my life." But he took off his shirt.

Omi's hands on him hurt a bit at first but the feeling melted into something else after a little while. Aya fought back a groan. He'd known his shoulders were a mess from worry and the unaccustomed weight of the bra straps but hadn't known how much until the tension loosened. And here came the lust again. How did people ever get the idea that women were frigid?

Worse, this was Omi. Omi could plan an infiltration, hack into a government's computers, and execute targets with the best of them, but sexualizing him felt as wrong as sexualizing a fluffy baby animal. After all, with his big eyes, shaggy blond hair, and aggressive cuteness, Omi so resembled one.

Except that Aya realized that Omi was excited. He glanced up at Omi from under his lashes, and Omi colored and said, "It's not about you being a woman now. I always liked you." His voice sounded husky.

All right, Aya could scar Omi's budding sexuality in different ways than he'd expected. "I see."

"I'm sorry. I know you don't think about me like that. I didn't mean to impose."

"Yes, you have to stop forcing your back rubs and affection on me, Omi. You're evil, and you must be stopped." Aya couldn't hold back a groan on the next movement of Omi's hands. "An artist too...."

"Damn, you're so tight, Aya."

"Stop what you're--" Yoji yelled as he burst in. "Oh, uhm."

Ken smacked the back of his head. "You nut."

When Aya understood what Yoji had assumed, he had to ask. "Did you think I couldn't defend myself from Omi's sexual predations?"

"Don't scoff, Aya. I'm a fierce beast," Omi said.

"He's cute. He's subtle," Yoji said.

"While you're blatant and insulting, and thus safe?" Aya stood. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. There's too much testosterone in this room."

As he left, he looked back to see Omi smacking Yoji. At least his change disturbed everyone else too.

  


* * *

Somebody needed to kick Yoji's ass. Omi figured that it might as well be him. "Do you know what you interrupted?" he growled as he landed a none-too-gentle blow.

Yoji tried to fend him off. "I thought I did, but I was wrong."

"I had Aya relaxed for a few minutes, you... you.... What are the odds of that happening again?"

"Oh yeah, relaxed and melting under your hands. I'm sure you're a selfless martyr."

Ken looked amused. "Yoji, this is Omi you're talking about."

"Who's had a kind of crush on Aya for ages, and now Aya's a woman and accessible."

"That doesn't make any sense," Omi said. "If his gender was the problem, how could I have had a crush on him for ages?"

"Yeah? Then why weren't you all over him ages ago?" Undeterred by logic or his own self-contradiction, Yoji lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall, his whole pose saying that he was sure he'd won.

"Has he ever allowed any of us anywhere near him before?"

"No."

"Well, he's doing it a little now. He needs help, I'm offering, and sometimes he's accepting." Omi remembered heated, smooth skin under his hands and the pleasure of watching Aya's tension flow away. "It's still helping whether I don't mind doing it or not."

Ken made a small sound. Yoji asked, "What?"

"You're fighting over Aya like she's a girl you're both interested in."

"He's Aya!"

"And _he's_ Omi."

"So even the manipulative stuff is for our own good because he has good intentions?"

He was _not_ manipulative! "What's wrong with trying to help Aya feel better when he's having a hard time?" Omi asked. When Yoji sighed, Omi said, "Look, let's not fight." Then he grinned. "Apologize for thinking the worst of me, and we'll call it even."

"Like hell."

Ken shook his head and smirked. Omi smacked Yoji on the arm again.

Yoji almost choked on his cigarette. "Will you stop doing that already? Fine, fine. I give. Besides, I don't want to lose sight of the important thing here."

"Which is?" Ken asked.

"That we got to see Aya in his bra."

  


* * *

While letting the hot water beat the aches out, Aya considered his body. It looked female, but he wondered if the changes were only skin deep. Since he didn't know what had transformed him, he couldn't say how thorough a job it had done. Some things suggested that he had the hormones that went with the form, and he even smelled different, but.... Maybe he could explore things and take the edge off the seemingly ever-present sexual ache, the equivalent of giving his body a cookie to make it shut up.

It was almost funny that he felt like he should be asking someone's permission to touch. Almost. Completely avoiding the blank area where his dick and testicles had once been, he set his hand between his legs and moved his fingers a little. How weird it seemed to feel sensation from body parts that shouldn't belong to him. He definitely had folds and one more hole than he should have, and it all liked the attention. Liked it a great deal, especially when he rubbed this bit of flesh a certain way. So he kept doing that.

Even arousal felt different. As a man, his arousal had been more linear, traveling a straight line to completion. This seemed to spiral, building in its own way, and he didn't know if it would end.

Pleasure and that ache swelled, suffusing him. This body knew what it wanted, and the fingers he slid inside as he became bolder with it didn't satisfy it enough. It wanted something bigger and thicker....

Well, it wouldn't get it, no matter how alluring the thought of walking back out to the kitchen, tearing one of his teammates' clothes off, and using him was. Yoji wouldn't even mind.... That wasn't the point. Aya might not be able to figure out how to get his own body back, but he refused to let this one rule his life.

Ignoring the continuing ache and throb, he washed his hands, toweled himself off, and put on his new pajama top and bottoms. The purple silk seemed to caress his sensitized skin. Dammit. Why he'd let Omi convince him to make this purchase, he didn't know.

As he passed Yoji, he saw Yoji's nostrils flare just a little. Aya's glare dared him to make a comment, but he didn't.

Aya tried to make himself comfortable in his bunk and thought very hard. Tomorrow he would be himself again. Tomorrow he would be a man again. He would.

  


* * *

"Damn," Aya muttered when he woke up still female.

"Good morning, babe," Yoji said, then squawked as Aya hit him hard in the face with a pillow. The blow nearly bent Yoji's sunglasses.

  


* * *

"What!" Yoji yelled in outrage. "Day off? Why does he get a vacation?"

Testily Omi said, "If you want to explain to the girls why he is now a she--"

"Just say that he's on vacation and this is Aya's sister Aya! It's almost the truth!"

Aya ate breakfast silently, ignoring Yoji as he stormed into the small living area with Omi trailing after. The boy was right, and he certainly wouldn't miss the gaggle of schoolgirls that always swarmed the trailer during open hours, but he would have appreciated the simple, repetitive work today. Flowers were... uncomplicated. Soothing. Utterly unlike people.

Yoji dropped into the chair across from him with a huff and slammed his mug down. Coffee slopped over the side, pooling on the table. Aya met his glare blankly and kept eating.

"And what are _you_ going to do all day?" Yoji demanded.

Aya swallowed, wiped his mouth, and said, "Train."

"You're about as fun as a car crash."

"I need to completely re-learn how to move," Aya said tersely. "Not to mention get my strength back to--" What, normal? "--to a level I'm comfortable with. Believe me, I would _rather_ be selling flowers."

"Yeah, whatever." Yoji sipped his coffee, unconcerned, and Aya suppressed a sigh. When it came to anything non-mission-related, Yoji had the attention span of a gnat. At least it stopped the questions and challenges, and the attempt to defend Aya's virgin purity last night had made him forget about prying through Aya's purchases, so it could be useful sometimes.

  


* * *

"White hunters of the night, deny these evil beasts their tomorrow!"

The image of the faux Persia vanished, and Manx's face reappeared on the screen. "Aya, you're sitting this one out?"

Aya blinked. "Why should I?"

Manx opened her mouth, then shut it again. Yoji quirked an eyebrow and drawled, "'Cause of those?"

Aya glowered, and Ken said, "No one could accuse you of being a feminist, Yoji."

"I just meant you're not used to them," Yoji said quickly. "It. The whole, you know, package." He paused. "Pardon the term."

"I'll be fine."

"Actually," Omi began, "he might have a point--"

"I'll. Be. Fine," Aya repeated, scowling.

Omi met his glare without flinching. "If you risk your life, you're risking ours too. Are you fine with that?"

He resisted the temptation to snap again; it was, after all, a valid question. "I've been training," he said evenly. "I'm ready."

Omi held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay then."

Manx coughed discreetly, reminding the others of her virtual presence. "Secure wireless video isn't cheap, people. Let's move on, shall we? So it's a group effort after all. The target will be alone in his office tonight...."

  


* * *

The target wasn't just alone in his office. The target was dead in his office.

And as Aya relayed this information over the comm in his headset, a flash of white outside the window gave him a pretty good idea as to the culprit.

Schwarz.

Omi was saying something; Aya jabbed his comm again, cutting him off, and hissed, "Stay alert. Farfarello's here. The others may be too."

A muffled curse from Yoji. "Where are you?"

"He was outside Kuroki's window. Cut him off--"

"Not a good idea."

Aya looked up, startled and furious that he'd let someone sneak up on him, and came face to face with a very familiar smirk. Then, as the smirk faded to something more like a gape, he remembered his... situation... and felt his face heat.

Aya glared.

Schuldig cracked up.

It was too much. To be laughed at and tormented by his friends was one thing, but the man who had kidnapped his sister, who had tried to kill him on more than one occasion-- well, Aya did the only thing he could do. He swung.

And, unfortunately, missed.

Or rather, Schuldig dodged; by the time the katana sliced through the space where his neck had been, it simply wasn't there anymore. Aya didn't miss a beat, just spun and attacked again, and once again Schuldig jumped out of range. Schuldig wasn't trying to fight back. He wasn't doing anything except laughing hysterically.

"Shut up!" Aya yelled as he struck again. Rage and humiliation warred within him. Rage seemed to be winning. Schuldig, predictably, paid him no heed.

At least Schuldig wouldn't ask what had happened. By now the telepath probably knew every sordid detail.

He heard the sound of running feet behind him, and then Yoji said, "What the--"

"Go after the others," Aya snapped without ceasing his attack. Finding two out of four here laid even odds on four out of four.

Yoji blinked, then shook his head. "Got the situation in hand, huh?"

"I'm hoping he'll asphyxiate. _Go_."

Yoji looked startled, as he often did when Aya displayed brief flashes of humor, but disappeared after one last backward glance.

The telepath was still dancing around his blade, grinning, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Aya gritted his teeth and tried to blank his mind, to move from readable thought to sheer instinct, to let his body take over.

Unfortunately, his body hadn't been too reliable of late. It was slower than he was used to, infinitesimally so, but enough to make a difference; Schuldig ducked each swing easily, his inhuman speed and bizarre reflexes making up whatever ground his telepathy didn't, and finally Aya growled, swung wildly, and found himself spun around into Schuldig's arms.

Aya struggled futilely, trying to break free; Schuldig simply tightened his embrace. A low chuckle sounded in Aya's ear, and Schuldig murmured, "Well, this is new and interesting."

Aya rolled his eyes, and the telepath snickered again. "You're imagining many different ways of killing me right now." He paused. "I'm impressed, Fujimiya. That's quite an imagination you have."

"I'm inspired," Aya muttered, straining forward, away, with a distinct lack of success. Schuldig held tight, running his hands over Aya's new topography, and Aya squirmed, outraged. The breasts really were ridiculously responsive. It couldn't be normal. "Are you going to kill me any time soon?"

Schuldig's laugh held genuine humor, and was all the more disturbing for it. "What, and put you out of your misery? This is way too much fun for that."

Aya's eyes widened at the possible implications, and Schuldig giggled. He was really starting to hate that sound.... "Don't worry, Fujimiya, you're not my type... anymore." As Aya's mind processed this disturbing information, Schuldig dropped a kiss on top of his head, and then, with a last fleeting grope, he was gone.

Aya spun around, grabbing his katana from where it had fallen.

Schuldig was nowhere to be seen.

As his teammates came running up, Aya grimly added one more name to his list of people to kill. His death list had been so much shorter when he'd still been a man.

  


* * *

Since his body's response to Schuldig's groping worried the hell out of him, Aya decided that he had to get the perspective of someone more knowledgeable than he was on being a woman. The next time Manx came by the trailer, he drew her aside. "I have to ask you a question in private."

"This should be good. All right." Manx walked outside, with him following, then asked, "What is it?"

"I'm wondering if this body is normal." She smirked, and he amended, "Of course, how I ended up with it isn't normal, but... the breasts are more sensitive than I think they should be, and I'm...." How should he say this?

"Yes?"

He gritted his teeth, swallowed his pride, and said, "I seem to be in a constant state of heat." At the look on Manx's face, he asked, "What?"

Her smirk deepened. "Aya, every girl faces a time in her life when she becomes a woman. There are signs...."

It took Aya a moment, but once he understood what she meant, his gut clenched. "Oh, shit. How long do I have until it starts?"

"It sounds like you're in the week before. It could be any time soon."

He really needed to get out of this body.

  


* * *

That night, Aya changed back.

He was wrapped in the grip of some dark, sweaty dream, something about a faceless body and his own brand new girl parts, when he jerked awake, climaxed, and discovered he once again had a dick.

Which meant he would have to do laundry in the morning, but that was a price he was willing to pay.

Aya lay still for a long time, staring at the ceiling, afraid to move and accidentally trigger another transformation. When nothing happened, he slowly ran a hand over his gloriously flat chest.

And then he smiled.

He wanted to jump out of bed right away, to share the good news, but the others wouldn't thank him for waking them up. They'd find out in the morning, and with any luck he'd never have to think about this unfortunate... incident... again.

He kicked the soiled sheet to the foot of his bunk, pulled off his pajamas and traded them for a pair of boxers and an undershirt, and rolled over and fell back asleep, still smiling.

And when he woke later that morning, he was a woman again.

Omi popped up to visit once Aya had punched a hole in the wall but wisely said nothing while under Aya's glare.

  


* * *

"And of course they make the woman do the shopping. How typical." Schuldig stood nearby, fondling some fruit. Did he have to molest _everything_ around him?

So much for finding peace in mundane activity. "You--" Aya would attack the telepath with his grocery basket if he had to.

~ You won't attack me here, will you? In front of the _children_? ~ Schuldig asked directly inside his brain. The sarcasm was obvious; unfortunately, he also had a point. Aya scowled.

"What do you want?" As if simply being female in public didn't attract enough unwanted attention, he had to deal with this?

No one should be allowed to look that self-satisfied. "Who says I want anything? I can't just bump into an old friend-- okay, mortal enemy, but, you know, it doesn't have to be that way."

Aya took a wary step back. "I thought you said I'm not your type anymore."

"To fuck, no. To stalk-- well, that's an entirely different game...."

"Get away from me."

"What's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah... make me."

"That's two words."

"Can't put anything past you."

He was bantering with a professional killer in the vegetable aisle. "Go _away_, Schuldig."

"Oh, hey, if you say it often enough it might eventually work. Care to wager on it? I'm building a nest egg, you know."

"Miss, is this man bothering you?" a stranger asked from nearby, probably thinking himself gallant.

Rendered speechless with horror, Aya just stared. He really could kill himself now.

Schuldig grinned briefly, then fixed the man with a practiced scowl. "Back off," he cried dramatically. "This is between the two of us."

"The lady obviously doesn't want your attention." The stranger's chest was puffed up to alarming proportions. He was also staring at Aya's breasts. Aya resisted the urge to punch him.

Schuldig glanced back with an amused grin. _Lady?_ he mouthed, raising an eyebrow.

Aya seethed. While his would-be rescuer was still busy posturing, he simply spun on his heel and stalked away. He was almost at the end of the aisle when he heard Schuldig call after him, "But, Aya, what about all the times we made love?"

Aya stopped in his tracks.

He stood there, frozen in mid-step and feeling his heart stutter in his chest, some distant part of him thinking how ironic it would be for him to die here; that after everything he'd been through, his end would come like this-- trapped in a woman's body and shamed in public by a telepathic German sadist.

He couldn't die yet. He still had to kill Schuldig very slowly and painfully.

_Then_ he could have a heart attack.

Schuldig pressed on, obviously delighted by his new ammunition. "All the nights we spent together, everything we shared, that was real! You can't just turn your back on that!"

People were openly staring now. Aya fixed a few with his death glare, and they hurriedly looked away.

With a superhuman effort, he forced his legs to start moving again. One. Two. Walking away. Couldn't kill Schuldig. Not in public. Not without his katana.

"Aya!"

Still walking.

"You're the best I've ever been with! I've never had a better fuck in my life!"

Something snapped.

Aya stopped again and turned around. Schuldig was a very good actor; he looked every inch the desperate ex-boyfriend, down to the malicious glint in his eyes. Only Aya knew it came not from jealousy and longing, but from the sheer joy of tormenting his victim.

Aya met that glint head on and said calmly, "Thank you. Unfortunately I can't say the same for you."

Then he turned around again and started towards the cashiers, feeling curiously lightheaded.

To his relief, Schuldig didn't continue the charade; perhaps Aya had genuinely succeeded in startling him. He concentrated on emptying his basket, ignoring the stares of-- well, pretty much everyone in the shop.

The sudden voice in his head made him jump. Schuldig sounded amused.

~ Well-played, Fujimiya. You might just be worth my while after all. ~

Aya closed his eyes.

Fantastic.

 

 

++++

 

**Author's Note:** Aya's a C. People have worried.


	2. Chapter 2

As Ken ran into the kitchen, Yoji asked, "Where's the fire?"

"I walked in on Aya at a bad time."

Well, well. "How bad?"

"Topless bad. I didn't mind to! I mean, mean to!"

Unwilling to just imagine the scene, Yoji grabbed his arm before he could take off again. "C'mon, you just saw the holy of holies. How were they? You have to tell."

Ken smiled. "They were spectacular."

"Thank you," Aya said from the doorway, fully dressed, unfortunately. "I hope they were worth dying for." Even as a woman he had a deep voice, and it had a huskiness to it that did things to a guy, even as Aya made threats. Sometimes _especially_ as he made threats.

"Shit. Gotta go, Yoji. Aya, it was an accident! I didn't know you were in there like _that_!" Ken yelled back on his way outside. Running as he tried to explain seemed like a good choice on Ken's part.

Aya greeted Yoji with a terse nod as he followed Ken at a dangerous looking walk. Yoji nodded back, struggling to keep a straight face. Alone in the kitchen, he imagined what Ken had seen, smiled, and lit up a cigarette.

  


* * *

With parking almost impossible downtown, Aya was taking the train instead of his car, which turned out to be a mistake. He'd thought that it would be less crowded at this time of day, but he'd been wrong. Standing, compressed and encased by the hot, intruding bodies of strangers, he tried to think of other things to get him through the ride. Tranquil flowers, killing his enemies, killing the people pressing against him--

That did not just happen.

The man behind him was... rubbing against him in a very distinctive way. He'd heard that things like this happened on the train, but he'd never expected to be a recipient of it. As if the errand he had to run hadn't already made him even more resentful to be a woman, he had to put up with this shit?

Aya looked over his shoulder and said, "Stop that." He couldn't even turn around.

The bastard had a smug look on his face. "I can't help it. It's too tight in here, and I have nowhere else to go." And rubbed again, this time accompanying the humping with a hand on Aya's hip. Aya's height prevented the man from thrusting against quite the area he wanted, forcing him to content himself with Aya's thighs, but the infringement remained.

Son of a bitch. This couldn't be allowed to continue.

Aya put his hand back, searching, and the man made noises like a happy pig, backing off a little to allow better access, murmuring encouragement. The moron. Once Aya found his target, he grabbed and squeezed hard. The man made a pained sound that combined a squeal and a grunt.

"I'm sorry," Aya said softly. "I can't help it. My hand has nowhere else to go."

"You... bitch," he wheezed, and Aya responded by tightening his grip, feeling clothed flesh compress within his fist in ways it wasn't meant to.

He kept the grip until he saw his stop, then let go and hip-checked the man away so he could squeeze through the press of humanity to the door. Looking back, he saw that his molester's face had turned very unhealthy colors, and only the people packed around him kept him upright. Aya might have done him permanent damage.

He could always hope.

  


* * *

Aya perched on the edge of his bunk and gave the pile of packages a baleful look. The packages sat placidly, as inanimate objects were wont to do.

He took a deep breath. He killed people for a living. He could handle this.

With great care, Aya inspected each package in turn, comparing the features of their contents, reading the instructions when such were listed. His mind absorbed and catalogued the clinical, occasionally fanciful words. Applicators. Wings. Flexi-wings. Liners. Weave. Super. Super-plus. Distancing words and ridiculous euphemisms.

After a moment's consideration, he set the boxes of tampons aside. They seemed like they would be easier to move with, but he didn't think he could face them just yet.

That still left him with a large selection of maxi-pads to choose from. Aya stared at them for a long moment. Then he buried his face in his hands.

He probably should have made his selection in the drugstore and saved himself some yen, but he hadn't wanted to linger, not with Schuldig apparently taking an interest in him. Just the thought of Schuldig catching him shopping for feminine hygiene products made him shudder. Their last encounter had been humiliating enough; Aya certainly didn't intend to give the telepath any more ammunition. So he'd just grabbed one of each package on the shelf. The cashier had given him a strange look, but Aya's death glare kept her mouth shut.

He was getting a lot of mileage out of that particular glare lately.

At least the train ride back had been uneventful. Maybe carrying these products had changed his aura to 'premenstrual woman', keeping the perverts at bay.

Footsteps outside the door snapped his head back up, and he threw a blanket over the packages just as Omi poked his head into the room. "Aya?"

Aya waited.

"We're having dinner now. Are you coming?"

"In a minute," Aya said.

Omi grinned at him and ducked back out of sight.

Aya sighed and, after a moment, uncovered the packages. He stared at them again, feeling helpless.

Manx had said about a week. That had been a few days ago. The likelihood of him becoming male again, _permanently_, before the deadline was seeming more and more remote.

Aya sighed again and said flatly, "I hate my life."

He was, he thought, getting a lot of mileage out of that too.

  


* * *

"He's handling it pretty well," Yoji said through a mouthful of curry rice, as Omi slid back into his seat. "I mean, I'm surprised. I would've expected him to fall on his katana by now."

Omi smiled, an expression that, on anyone less utterly wholesome-looking, Yoji would have called a smirk. "What?" Yoji asked.

Omi shrugged, still smiling. "That's what he said you'd do, if it happened to you."

Ken snickered. Yoji cocked an eyebrow and said archly, "Did he?"

"Yep."

Yoji pondered the idea. "I don't know. A change could be fun." He grinned. "I'd finally have a shot at all the hot dykes in Shinjuku."

Omi choked on his fish. Yoji watched narrowly as Ken pounded him on the back.

"What?" Omi asked nervously, once he could breathe again. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Yoji smiled. "Something you wanna tell us, kid?"

Ken's eyes darted back and forth between them. "I'm not sure I should be hearing this."

"There's nothing to hear," Omi insisted, his voice higher-pitched than usual. "I mean--"

"Yes?" Yoji purred.

Omi's eyes went wide with relief. "Aya!"

Yoji and Ken turned. Aya stood in the doorway, looking uncannily like a rabbit caught in headlights.

Yoji turned back to Omi. "This isn't over," he warned.

Omi smiled nervously.

Aya shook his head. "You're all crazy."

  


* * *

"Aya, you haven't been as effective a fighter lately, so I'm thinking that maybe we can utilize you in a different way," Manx said.

As if he didn't already have enough reason to feel bitchy today. "How so?" he growled.

"Seduction of the target."

Yoji apparently found that hilarious. "Are you serious? I can just see his technique. It would probably be a blunt, impatient," Yoji changed his voice to approximate Aya's irritated voice, girl version, "'Do you want to fuck or not? I have things to do.'"

"You don't want to try me on that. Nobody would want me right now," Aya said as he rubbed his stomach. Nothing helped the cramps, and he felt swollen and grotesque. The breasts felt bigger too, which shouldn't have been possible.

"I think you'd be surprised," Manx said.

It was good to have an excuse aside from 'I'd rather die' for refusing to try a seduction attempt. "Do you remember our private conversation?"

"Yes." Then her expression changed. "Oh."

At least she hadn't forced him to spell out his grotesque and disgusting situation in front of his teammates. "I'm going to fight instead. Trust me, I want to kill things with my bare hands right now." He'd also like to rip out his gut right now, but killing people was a more attainable goal.

"Like that's anything new?" Yoji asked.

"You don't want to know," Aya growled. He was _bleeding_, and wearing what felt like a diaper so he wouldn't stain anything. Making others bleed seemed only fair.

  


* * *

He ended up killing a small army of bodyguards, which made him feel better mentally even if it didn't do anything for his physical torment. If he stabbed and hacked a bit more viciously than usual, none of his teammates complained.

A psychiatrist might have something to say about the glee he took in wielding his phallic weapon, but he'd just kill the psychiatrist too.

  


* * *

Having... it also made him feel colder, so he wore his man's leather jacket as he watered flowers in the trailer. The jacket still smelled the way he should. Working inside, out of sight, let him contribute without putting him under schoolgirl scrutiny. Tending the plants always made him feel a bit calmer too.

"Aya!" Ken yelled from outside.

What could possibly have gone wrong out there? Aya went to the door, only to have it open just as he reached for the doorknob. "Ran!" his sister shouted gleefully, then she took a closer look at him. "Oh my--"

"I'm fine!" he answered as he pulled her inside and closed the door.

"Is this why you didn't want to talk to me? You could have told me about yourself!"

She looked hurt. Of course she looked hurt. She also looked stunned.

She also looked beautifully, vibrantly alive.

"I didn't choose this for myself!" Aya protested, when he realized what she meant. She thought he... _wanted_ to be a woman? Maybe he had stayed away from her too long.

"Someone _did_ this to you?" she asked, sounding horrified and angry.

"We don't know what happened. Maybe it's a psychic power or magic or something."

Now she looked angrier. "I'm 18, Ran. You can't lie that stupidly to me."

"I'm not lying. We don't know what happened. And I would think that your own experiences would make you less likely to immediately dismiss such things out of hand."

"You're... right," she said after a moment, looking abashed. "You're--"

"I know. I am. Totally."

She hugged him, then recoiled. "Those are--"

He disgusted her. Of course. He disgusted himself. "This is the kind of thing I stayed away from you over." Almost a lie. He had many reasons to stay away. More truthfully, he continued, "My life is insane, and I didn't want that touching you."

But then she hugged him tighter. "I'm sorry. It was just such a shock to feel them. And I'm jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Because you're--" She made a gesture with her hands suggesting a big, somewhat heavy bounty.

She couldn't be serious. He said, "Their size makes it much worse. You're beautiful just the way you are." Unlike some people.

"Ran, you're beautiful too. I love you no matter what you look like, though." She almost seemed to smirk at that, then sobered again. "Or what you do for a living. Sakura told me about it."

She already knew and... accepted him?

He put his arms around her and hugged back. "I was ashamed. I couldn't see you."

"You're an idiot."

She accepted him. He answered, "You're not the first person to suggest that."

"You're an idiot with no taste. You still dress like a boy."

"I'm sure you can guess why."

"A sloppy boy."

"I'm not sloppy." He wore new boots and a perfectly serviceable T-shirt and new pair of pants. The moderately expensive leather jacket looked better on his natural frame, but it hardly looked sloppy.

"I'm taking you shopping." Her eyes sparkled, suddenly mischievous. "I always wanted a sister to shop with."

He groaned inwardly. "I have to stop thinking that life can't get any more horrible. Aya, I bought things for myself."

"And I'm sure they're as close to boy things as you could get them."

"Except for the limitations the breasts impose, yes, and can you blame me?"

"I'm taking you out." She pulled on his arm and started to drag him.

She couldn't know that that phrase usually had more sinister connotations for him. Then again, a shopping trip in which his sister tried to feminize him more sounded fairly sinister. "Aya...."

She beamed at him. "Do you love me?"

"Not right now."

She just put more strength into her dragging as she said, "I know you don't mean that."

"At least let me leave a note for the others."

She let him, since she knew she'd won.

  


* * *

"Stop staring at me," Aya ordered, then immediately regretted it. He'd fought and almost died for his sister. He shouldn't snap at her. Her stare just felt so intense at such close range, and he couldn't get away from it while driving.

Luckily, she didn't take offense. "Sorry," she said with an apologetic smile. "It's just... really weird."

"You're telling me?"

"Can I touch them?"

What? "No!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aya blush. "Sorry," she said. "That's kind of inappropriate, isn't it?"

"Just a bit," he said dryly.

"It's just-- Ran, what _happened_?"

He sighed. "I don't know," he said, for what felt like the thousandth time. "I was in the middle of a--" He hesitated, and reminded himself that she knew, and she accepted.

They were going to have to have a long talk about that sometime soon. Preferably sometime when he didn't have breasts.

"A fight," he finished, and tensed, but Aya-chan didn't react. "And, well. I stood up, and I was... like this."

"Hmm."

"Hmm? Do you have any thoughts about it?"

"No, sorry. It was just a considering 'hmm.' But I'm sure you'll figure out what's going on."

"I just hope I'm not an old woman by the time I do."

  


* * *

Aya sipped her soda through a straw and sighed. "I can't believe how hard it is to find shirts for you."

At least he wasn't the only one. "The breasts are the problem. They're so big that they get in the way of the rest of anything fitting me."

She smirked. "_The_ breasts?"

"They're not _my_ breasts."

"Some people would disagree."

Aya leaned back in his chair. "Some people don't know what they're talking about."

"I'm sure we can find something. We haven't yet, but we will."

"I'm done."

Shopping with his sister hadn't been so bad, since she'd concerned herself more with the way things looked on and fit him than with making him girly, but he'd been glad to hear her call a refreshment break. Shopping wore him down. Thus, he'd be even gladder to call an end to it.

"But you don't have to go back yet, right?" She put her hand over his, then twined their fingers.

Aya said, "I don't have to go back yet," through the lump in his throat. "But I don't know how long we'll be in Tokyo."

"I'll enjoy the time we have. I'm not giving you any excuses. There won't be any staying away from me for my own good." She looked down at his hand. "I want to do your nails."

He could get whiplash from listening to her. "That's why you want me to stick around?"

"Idiot. No. But I also want to do your nails."

"No way in--" Well.... "What color?" If it made her happy, why not?

"Dark red, I think. You're so pale that light colors would get lost on you anyway, so a dark red would be nice _and_ dramatic. It would match your hair."

"I may not know a lot about female nail polishing rituals, but I don't think they try to match their nails to their hair."

She smiled. "Most people don't have your hair."

"And what are you doing with dark red?"

"Don't be such a big brother. I can wear red polish without attracting the wrong kind of boys. There's a whole modern world out there."

"Light pink is a nice shade for you."

"That's a little girl color!"

At that rather inopportune moment, a stranger stopped at their table, some boy. "I'm Yutaka."

Why should Aya care? But instead of being that blatant, he answered with "Yes?"

Yutaka put on what he must have thought was his most charming look and proceeded to address Aya's breasts instead of his face, something a lot of men had been doing lately. "I'm wondering if you're doing anything tonight."

This could not be happening.

Aya stared at the boy, wondering how best to extricate himself from the situation. If his sister hadn't been here, he would have just punched the guy and had it over with, but he had sisterly standards to live up to. So instead he answered, "I'm already taken," and stroked Aya's hand. Her eyes twinkled at him. It looked like she was struggling not to laugh.

"I was counting on that," Yutaka answered with a smarmy smile.

The urge to punch him grew. Aya countered with a chilly "And I'm wearing our boyfriend's jacket. He gets possessive about the two of us." If he couldn't use violence, he'd hide behind someone who could.

After all, he couldn't lose face when the face wasn't even his.

"But--"

Aya gave him the full death glare. "Go. Away."

"But--"

"He should be arriving in," Aya made a show of looking at his watch, "ten minutes. As much fun as it might be to watch him kick your ass across the floor, it would draw attention and disrupt other people's lives. Go. Away."

"Bitch." But he walked away. Under other circumstances, Aya might have gone after him and tried to teach him some manners, futile as that attempt might have been.

"I'm part of a threesome with a man and my brother who's currently in a woman's body?" Aya asked, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"I told you my life was crazy."

"Come home with me."

"Yutaka's gone."

She smacked his wrist. "I'm not saying that as part of an act, and you know it."

"I can't go in through the front door looking like this. The Tomoes will ask questions." More questions than they already had.

"Sakura told me how she found you on her balcony. You had to get up there somehow."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"Does it have to be?"

  


* * *

Climbing up to the roof turned out to be a joy as well as a challenge. He didn't have as much reach as he had last time, but his new body didn't fail him either, proving to be as strong and agile as it needed to be. Aya's bedroom didn't have a balcony, so he'd have to walk along the roof and climb through her open window, where Aya cheered him on quietly, trying not to attract the attention of her guardians downstairs. He walked the roof's edge easily, perfectly balanced, then pulled himself in through the window.

Only to be nearly knocked back out, taking her with him, when Aya leapt on him and hugged him. If not for his instinctive reach and death grip on the window frame, they would have flown outside and off the roof. She blushed as he pulled them both back in.

"Sorry," she said. "But that was great!"

"I hope I haven't given you any ideas."

"None."

"Right." He tried to tell himself that she would have been roof-walking soon no matter what he did.

She sat him down in front of a vanity table and mirror. "Hands," she commanded.

He didn't look too closely at his face that wasn't his face in the mirror. "And?"

"Give 'em to me, Ran. Don't make me get rough with you."

He set his hands down flat on the table and smiled as she scrutinized them, then searched for the right bottle of polish. She looked so adorably focused as she neatly applied red to his nails. But his hands looked even more foreign now.

"Now makeup," she said.

Give in on one little thing.... "That wasn't part of the deal."

"Please, Ran? Pleeeeease?"

"You're evil."

"C'mon. It'll be cool. Besides, you can't fend me off with wet polish on. You'd smudge."

As much as he loved her, he didn't need this. "I feel like some kind of doll."

She put her arms around his neck. "Every girl wants a sister once in a while. Me too, and I figure I should take advantage while you still are one, because I know you'll figure out how to get back to your usual self."

He leaned back into her embrace but asked softly, "You think you have me wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

She finger combed his hair. "If I turned into a guy, I'd be trying all kinds of things."

"I'm afraid to speculate about that."

"When did you get this pierced?" she asked.

He'd pierced his left ear to put her earring through it, to remind himself that he had to sacrifice his life and morals to avenge her and their parents. "A while ago. You can make me up."

"Yeah? Are you okay, Ran?"

"The past is past. I'm okay."

"All right." She obviously didn't believe him but must have decided to play along. "You want to go natural or dramatic?"

"Natural? How can makeup look natural?"

"It's just used to define your face a little further and not call attention to itself."

"But it's _there_."

"Okay. Dramatic it is. I think it suits you better anyway. You always were such a drama queen."

"Was not." He sighed. "You know that I love you more than life itself... but if you tell anyone about this, I will have to kill you."

"Of course."

With her standing in front of him focusing on his face, he couldn't see his reflection. Probably for the best. At least the lip-gloss tasted nice, though she yelled at him for licking his lips. The applicator wand felt strange as she swept it above his eyes.

"Make this face," she said and demonstrated.

"You look like a fish."

"It makes it easier to apply eyeliner. Really."

"You just want me to look like an idiot."

"No, that's just a nice side effect."

He did the fish face. Yes, she had him wrapped around her finger.

Once she finished smudging the liner under his eye, she moved out of the way so he could see himself. He looked... looked like a beautiful woman preparing for a night out. The dark smokiness did suit him. If he had to be a woman, this would be how he'd make himself up.

If he had to be a woman.

"I could have done a better job with the liner," he had to say.

Aya laughed. "What?"

"I've had to line my eyes for an assignment now and then." Talking about that took his mind off of what he looked like.

"Oh, you're so edgy."

"Enough about me."

"We barely started with you!"

"Tell me about yourself. I really want to know."

"I'm sure your life is much more exciting."

"Too much."

"Okay, but I'll stop if I notice your eyes glazing."

As they sprawled on her bed, she told him about her friends, schoolwork, and life. It was all so mundane, special only for being _her_ mundane life, and thus wonderful.

"Any boyfriends?" he asked.

"I'll never tell. You just want to know so you can beat them up. Oh, I just had a horrible thought. They'll see you and ask you out."

"I'm way out of their league," he answered. Aya suddenly threw herself at him and clung to his shoulder. He pulled her in for a hug. "What's wrong? Aya, don't cry. Please." Not knowing what had upset her only made it worse.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "It's just... this is the way it should have been."

Except for him being female, but that was nitpicking. He knew what she meant. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you came to see me today."

"I realized that you wouldn't come to me. Sakura told me that you were heroes, but I know you well enough to realize that you're ashamed of what you do. 'I don't deserve to be loved,' she told me you said. So it was up to me." She sniffled again. "I've been trying to see all the new things as an adventure, and that works a lot of the time, but sometimes I just want to curl into a ball and cry over everything I've lost. Or turn back time to when life made sense. But you must know what that's like."

"Then you should cry. You deserve time to mourn."

"They died two years ago."

"You lost those two years. It's fresh to you. Now is your time. You lost the whole life you had. You're living with people you didn't even know prior to... what had happened to you." He felt guilty about letting the Tomoes house her, but Weiß's small trailer wasn't an appropriate place for a young woman.

"You had your life torn away too."

Having her here, warm and conscious against him, crying into his shirt, made something that had been knotted for a long time inside him ease. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Aya. That brought me through." That and the hate and the vengeance and the ice....

She had one hand in his hair and one clenched against his back under his jacket. "Don't let this be the last time we see each other. Swear it to me, Ran."

He felt warm and cared for. "It won't be."

"Aya!" a woman called from downstairs, and his head whipped up at the sound of his name.

Aya smiled at him. "You really have been using my name for the last few years. That's really kind of... uh...."

"Sick and wrong?"

"Sweet. But sick and wrong too. I don't want you to go."

"I have to go?" Of course he did, eventually, but now?

"That was Mrs. Tomoe. I better go downstairs." She rubbed her eyes. "See you again soon?"

"Yes."

She kissed the tip of his nose. "Love you."

"Love you too."

He went out the window, walked the roof again, and slid down the side of the house to the lawn. He finally had the knack of this body. It felt wonderful. In the window, Aya made clapping motions with her hands, and he bowed showily to her.

  


* * *

When the trailer door opened, Yoji reached for the wire in his watch and Omi picked up some cutlery from the kitchen table, but only an unarmed pretty woman walked in. No, not a stranger, Aya. Had to be with that hair. But Aya had a soft, dreamy smile on his face--_Aya_ smiling!--and his eyes partially shut and _makeup_ on? How did that happen? The soft, dark shadow and liner gave him an air of feminine mystery. The slick looking gloss on his lips called attention to his mouth and invited kisses.

At least it wasn't a full grin on Aya's face. That might have killed Yoji.

Aya was a woman. He'd known that and seen it, but somehow the makeup finally brought it home.

Ken and Omi also stared. Yoji hoped he didn't look that stupidly stunned, but he probably did.

Aya opened her-- _his_ eyes and noticed them staring. "What?" he asked as his face settled into his more accustomed still, somewhat sullen stone.

The weirdest thing about the transformation--okay, aside from the very fact it had happened and the lovely size of those breasts--was seeing Aya's facial expressions and stances being done by a woman. It was blatantly Aya in that body.

Did Aya have nail polish on?

"We have a mission tonight," Omi said quietly. This situation had to be doing a number on the kid's head. Hell, it was doing a number on Yoji's head.

Aya was beautiful.

"Thank you. I'll change."

Not long after Aya entered the bathroom, they heard a thud. Ken asked, "Wanna bet that Aya just noticed that he still has makeup on?"

  


* * *

Damn. He'd walked past them looking like _this_. No wonder they'd looked shell-shocked. They would never let him hear the end of it.

He still had some makeup remover wipes, so he started to obliterate the pretty woman in fast strokes. The face that looked back at him in the mirror afterward more resembled his own, though traces of eyeliner clung. He'd already licked off most of the gloss, but his lips continued to look darker than usual anyway.

He'd changed. He was different on the inside, literally. If he returned to his true self, could he possibly be the same Aya he'd been? Probably not.

He walked out of the bathroom to get away from his reflection.

Gathering an outfit together for the mission, Aya stopped at one of the shirts he'd bought, the one with the black-painted zippers in strategic places. Why not? They'd already seen him in makeup tonight. Once he finished dressing, he slipped black gloves over his foreign hands, hiding the red polish he couldn't bring himself to take off. His white coat looked incongruous over all the black, but it expressed him somehow.

When Aya walked out to meet them, Yoji said, "You didn't have to take it off on our account."

"It wasn't appropriate," Aya answered.

Ken stared at his chest. "And that is?"

"I'm expressing myself."

"Please, express yourself more often," Yoji said, smiling.

"If you guys are done admiring Aya's outfit, can we get going?" Omi asked with a sigh. Omi had been looking sad and more worried lately, and Aya regretted his part in that.

They left the trailer in silence, ready to kill.

  


* * *

Aya cut a swathe through the minions. The last one gaped at him, a deadly lapse in concentration, since it made it easier for Aya to cut him down. The hallway cleared, Aya stopped a moment to orient himself and felt something slightly off, slightly wrong. He looked down to see that a flap of his shirt had come loose, leaving his neck and the right side of his upper chest bare, revealing his white sports bra. That would explain the man's distraction, especially if he thought he'd get a more revealing look than was actually coming. Only one thing could complete this moment.

"Hey, Aya, I told you that might work," Yoji said as he approached, with a smile that Aya should slit his throat for.

And now the moment was perfect.

Aya zipped his shirt back up. He decided to never wear it out again.

"Your breasts pulled it down?" Yoji asked. "They can't be restrained!" Fortunately, incoming gunfire shut him up.

Aya had to refasten that flap three more times during the mission, and each time it came down his kill turned out to be far easier than it would have been otherwise. He had to give this some thought. Surely it didn't demean _him_ if the sight of his new chest could turn some opponents into slow, drooling idiots. Though he wouldn't be able to use this as a weapon around Yoji, who'd become more and more flustered, and thus useless, as the night went on. One time Omi had to smack him back to sense.

Aya probably shouldn't have taken quite so much satisfaction from seeing that.

  


* * *

It amazed Yoji how Aya could take the fun out of anything. Aya should have been mortally embarrassed by the way his shirt kept falling open, yet after the initial blush and sigh he seemed to have resigned himself to it. Worse than resigned himself to it, decided to treat it like a kind of weapon, while being so damned practical and... coy about it. Meanwhile, Yoji kept getting distracted by those glimpses of pale skin and paler undergarment. Which was actually still kind of fun, but in a sweatier and less lighthearted way.

How could Aya match that tight black zippered thing with a plain white bra? And why was it so sexy that way?

Yoji didn't know anymore if he was superimposing sex over the new body or whether Aya really _was_ more sexual as a woman. He could swear that Aya as a woman had a bit of a... strut while on their missions that he'd never shown as a man, though Yoji had initially chalked it up to Aya having to learn a different way of walking with no blueprints. Surely he didn't know what he was doing to people who watched him.... At least that had been Yoji's thinking then. Before, there'd been no question that he'd been letting his dirty mind run away with him, but now? He thought that Aya's prey saw it too--the sex and violence twined together in one dangerous, beautiful, fucked-up package--and they froze for a moment, making it easier for Aya to kill them.

Aya had transformed into something of a walking wet dream for Yoji, and _that_ was dangerous. And really unfair.

  


* * *

Omi watched Aya over dinner and worried. Aya had been so happy to see his sister yesterday, but that high had faded almost as soon as he'd returned to the trailer, and now he looked wan and unwell, as he had for the last few days. Would it have been different if he hadn't been expected to go on a mission right after visiting with his sister? Not that it made that much difference now, when nothing could be done about it.

They knew nothing about the causes and effects of Aya's transformation. It might be affecting his health. He could be ill as well as depressed. Omi had noticed that Aya slept more as a woman. Something had to be done.

Yoji and Ken kept talking on as they ate, seeing nothing wrong, and Omi didn't entirely blame them for it, since Aya being quiet and deep in his own thoughts wasn't unusual. But too many times Omi felt as if he didn't live in the same world they did.

Eventually Yoji and Ken left the table, and only Omi and Aya remained, with Aya eating well though slowly and Omi thinking of a way to start a conversation. Aya finally looked at him and said, "You've been staring at me for fifteen minutes. What's wrong?"

Omi wanted to say, "You are, and I want to help you," but settled on, "You don't look well, Aya, and I wanted to ask you how you felt."

Aya's mouth twitched. "I look terrible?"

"You look beautiful--" damn, he hadn't meant to say that and in such a fervent way, "--but worn out."

"It's nothing."

"Aya."

"You don't really want to know."

"Aya."

Aya sighed. "I'm bleeding," he said quietly. "I feel disgusting."

Omi felt a stab of panic. "You're--" Then he saw the other possibility. "Oh." Aya really was a woman, inside and out. That was.... "That must be scary." It scared him just thinking about it.

"I knew it was coming but... seeing it... was still very disturbing."

"Yeah." Understatement. Omi didn't want to think about it, but he had asked and was determined to see it through. "How long do you have on it?"

"Today's the fourth day. Since it's tapering off, I think I'm nearly done."

The _fourth_ day? "We had no idea!"

"I'd prefer it if Yoji and Ken remained ignorant."

Something about the look on Aya's face.... "You expected me to walk away and stop bothering you if you told me."

"It didn't work."

"I know your tricks."

Aya raised an eyebrow. "I commonly use my period as a means to disgust men into leaving me be?"

"You commonly use misdirection."

"I never realized."

"Liar."

Aya nearly smiled. It may have been a near Aya smile and thus barely a curve of his lips, but it counted.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Omi asked.

"I don't think so. I may be the only one who can help myself, but I don't know how to do it. Still, thank you for the offer." Aya stood.

As Aya started to walk away, Omi said, "Anything you need, I'm here for you."

"I know."

Omi sighed, knowing that Aya really didn't know. Or if he did know, he wouldn't call on Omi for it.

  


* * *

Over at last. No more bleeding, cold flashes, or bulky, uncomfortable undergarments. He felt more like himself again now. Actually, he felt more like his woman self, but he'd learned to settle. Aya had been half-afraid that it would never stop, since he was hardly a normal woman.

He was hardly a woman at all.

How did they do this every month?

At least maybe now he'd get a break from the incessant parade of sex hormones he'd faced.

  


* * *

"Have you stopped--"

"No."

Manx frowned. "It hasn't ended yet?"

"Yes, it's over, no, I'm not going to seduce anybody," Aya said. "I have work to do."

Manx surveyed the room with raised eyebrows. "I think the flowers can wait, don't you?"

Aya fiddled with an arrangement and said nothing. In truth, there was nothing for him to do in the shop-- he'd watered all the potted plants already, changed the water for the cut ones, and perfected every arrangement to his satisfaction. Even the financial records were all up to date.

He was bored, but not bored enough to argue with Manx about whoring himself out to their targets.

She seemed determined to press the issue, however. "We don't have enough female agents to go around. And one with your skills... Aya, if you'd just--"

"No," he repeated, still staring at the flowers. It seemed the safest response.

"What, it's beneath you?" Manx demanded, a hint of anger creeping into her voice. "You'll kill, but you'll be chaste about it?"

Aya snorted. "Manx. _I_ can't seduce anyone."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're a quick learner, though, aren't you? But I suppose you'd rather risk your teammates' lives than compromise your virtue."

"'Risk their lives,'" Aya echoed, glaring at her. The words he didn't say hung in the air between them. They already risked their lives, all of them, for Kritiker; Aya had no say in that.

She met his glare steadily. "If you could get your targets to trust you, how much less dangerous would it be for the others? You could keep them out of the line of fire just by showing a little skin."

Aya turned away. "That's not my responsibility."

"You're team leader. It _is_ your responsibility."

"I won't do it," he said, with as much finality as he could. His voice had dropped to something approaching his lower male register, his usual deadly, don't-fuck-with-me voice, and he felt Manx pause behind him, re-evaluating the situation.

After a moment, she said coldly, "Your prerogative."

"Yes."

  


* * *

"And we meet again. You know, a man might think he was being followed."

Aya took a deep breath, shifting his stance. He was well armed this time. He was dangerous. He _really_ wanted to kill something.

Schuldig was going to die.

He kept his mind carefully blank as he turned slowly, right hand resting on the hilt of his katana. Schuldig's eyes met his, their expression fading from gleeful to vaguely puzzled. In one swift movement, Aya drew his blade and attacked--

And ended up with his back against the wall, ears ringing from the smack of his head against brick, his own katana pressed to his throat.

Aya closed his eyes. Manx had been right, about this one thing at least. He couldn't fight like this, not against a truly capable enemy. Ordinary bodyguards and minions were one thing, but Schwarz was... far from ordinary. And now he would die for his arrogance.

At least he'd seen his sister one last time....

A sudden heat rushed through him as he felt a body moving close. Warily he opened his eyes.

Schuldig was watching him with his ever-present smirk. "So eager to die?"

Aya bared his teeth. "Get it over with," he growled.

"Oh, no." Schuldig pressed closer, one hand trailing down Aya's... breasts; the other hand still held the katana against his throat. "I think this time we'll take it slow."

And then, as Aya's eyes widened in shock and horror, Schuldig's hand moved inexorably downwards, settling between Aya's legs, covering the part of him that was undeniably _her_.

"Not your type," Aya gasped, brandishing the words like a cross before a vampire, his only possible defense. This could not be happening. It could _not_.

Schuldig smiled. "Funny thing about that," he purred. "For many people, sex is largely intellectual. For a telepath, well. You can only imagine."

He pressed closer. Aya gulped.

"Knowing intellectually that you're a boy, trapped inside this... admittedly shapely body...." Schuldig let his voice trail off, hands caressing the aforementioned shapes.

Aya just stared at him, panic-stricken, his body reacting automatically to the attentions. There was no precedent for this sort of situation. He had no idea how to react. Trapped by one's mortal enemy, who seemed intent on wrenching sensations out of his borrowed body that he'd never even dreamed he could experience....

"I'm... not a boy," he choked out, and even managed to sound slightly indignant.

"Well, no." Schuldig smiled. "Not at the moment."

"That's not-- oh...."

Schuldig's hand slid back between Aya's legs and began to expertly manipulate his new anatomy. Aya whimpered. His hips began to roll of their own accord.

Glittering blue eyes pinned him like a butterfly; he gazed back, helpless, as the telepath murmured, "Delicious...."

Aya closed his eyes again, a chalky, metallic taste pricking at the back of his mouth. He was close to something, he knew, rising, rising, almost there....

And the hand withdrew, and Schuldig smiled and said, "Was it good for you?", and then he was gone. Breathing hard, stunned on one level and utterly resigned on another, Aya tried to reclaim his scattered thoughts.

If Aya had still been a man, the level of sexual frustration he'd faced since his transformation would have killed him long ago.

This was ridiculous and humiliating and couldn't be borne any longer. As he was now, he was a liability to the team. He had to train harder and regain his old skill level. Then he'd slice off Schuldig's cock and balls before killing him. It would be apt, and maybe the German wouldn't find the situation so funny then.

  


* * *

As Aya approached the kitchen for breakfast, he heard Yoji say, "Maybe you'll call me crazy-- oh, shut up-- but Aya's more fun as a woman."

Aya stopped. Eavesdropping would be wrong. It would be wrong, but he intended to do it anyway.

"You just think the scenery's improved," Ken said.

"Yeah, he's a pretty woman, but he's more fun too. We rib him, he ribs back. I can't say that he's pleasant, but he's more approachable."

"Are you saying that becoming a woman made him more like he's one of the guys?" Omi asked.

"I think my brain just fried," Ken said.

Aya tried to figure out how he felt about Yoji's assertion. Aside from hurt. Damned hormones. Like it mattered what people thought of him. And of course Yoji liked him better as a woman. It had nothing to do with him as a person.

Aya schooled his face to stillness and made far more noise than usual as he walked to the kitchen. They all sat straighter and tried to look innocent. If he hadn't heard them talking, their reaction when he walked in would have worried him.

He shook his head and started making breakfast. He needed fortification for another day working alone in the trailer. Amazing how solitude could suddenly wear on him when he had no choice in it. Right now, solitude wouldn't help because it would give him time to think about last night. He may have been outclassed physically, but he still hadn't fought as hard as he could have, especially after Schuldig had his hand in place....

Flowers, he told himself decisively. Flowers were a good thing to think about.

Flowers didn't have fucking _hands_.


	3. Chapter 3

Exhausted, Aya wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He'd trained until he'd nearly dropped, and he felt a little better. A little better mentally. Physically, he wanted to die. At least being this fatigued from training on top of a day of work had beaten his rampant sexual urges into remission.

Why couldn't he have still had the menstruation last night? That might have wiped the smugness from Schuldig's face. Well, probably not, but it would have limited his ability to grope.

Yoji walked in and took a long look at him. "You know what you need?"

"Don't finish that thought."

"Alcohol, you pervert. You need some good old-fashioned poison to take your mind off things."

Yoji could be so blatant. Aya sneered. "Not a chance."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're just trying to get me drunk so you can get in my pants."

"Aya. You're _Aya_."

"Yes, I know. So?"

"...So I figure if I hit on you, drunk or not, I'd have about three seconds to live."

Aya couldn't argue with that, so he just took a long swallow from his bottle.

"Besides, you look like you really need it."

"I don't... drink."

"Well then, this is the perfect time to start, don't you think?"

Yoji's proposal sounded almost reasonable. That alone should scare the hell out of Aya. "I'm tired."

"You just sit, drink, and relax. It's not like you'll have to kill anybody."

"That's a disappointment."

"You're joking."

"Sure I am, Yoji."

"Are you going to do it?"

Aya wiped the cold bottle against his forehead. Getting out might take his mind off of last night's failure, which he'd brooded on all day. "Sure. Let me shower and change."

The stunned look on Yoji's face made it worth it too.

  


* * *

"This is a dive," Aya said.

"It's a bar."

"It stinks in here."

"That's cigarette smoke. You should be used to it by now."

"I really only let you live because you're useful sometimes."

"You're cute, you know that?"

"No."

Yoji rolled his eyes. "This was a great idea. I'm so glad I thought it up. Here, take a seat."

Yoji sat on one side of the booth, while Aya settled in on the other. At least the seat felt comfortable, if worn. Yoji ordered beers for the both of them when the waitress walked by. Aya regarded his suspiciously when it arrived.

"It won't hurt you," Yoji said with a smirk.

"I don't like the smell."

"You won't notice it after a while."

"I don't like the taste either." It tasted vaguely rotten and burned his throat. Fermentation at work.

"You won't notice that after a while either. It's an acquired taste."

"What if I don't wish to acquire it?"

"You're a pain in the ass. Here I am, trying to help you out, and you're complaining. You're lucky I didn't ask you to go dancing."

"I wouldn't have gone dancing, and you know that." Aya took another sip. The burn started to settle into a kind of warmth.

People drank to forget. Maybe he could do that. Forget the freak he'd become and his failure and the way he'd liked what Schuldig had been doing.... Aya took another swallow.

"Now that's the spirit!"

  


* * *

"Whoa! Watch the hands, lady!" Yoji said as he jumped.

Feeling warm and loose, Aya almost giggled. "That was my foot."

"Yeah, but it was still on my dick! It _is_ still on my dick."

"I used to have one of those." Really, what was Yoji complaining about? He led with his dick, so why should he object to it getting some personal attention?

"Yeah, well, you're not gettin' mine."

"I'm not a lady."

"No argument here."

"Not a boy either."

"Okay, I'll bite. Are you a toaster oven?"

"I don't know what I am. Do you wanna find out?"

Yoji was speechless. Aya decided that he had to go drinking with him more often.

"I want you, Yoji."

Yoji's face reddened. Amazing how much fun a night at a bar could be. "You can't want me. You don't want anyone."

"How would you know?" Once again glad that he'd worn easy to slip out of shoes instead of boots with laces, Aya moved his foot a little just to make Yoji squawk.

"The threats and brush-offs helped," Yoji panted.

"You just weren't listening."

"Oh, sure."

Couldn't Yoji see what he needed and how frustrated he felt? What did he have to do? "It just keeps... _wanting_... something. And I can't make it stop. God knows I've tried--"

"'It'? Oh. Uh, okay, verging on too much information--"

"Even _Schuldig_ did a better job than me!"

"...Schuldig?" Yoji's eyes widened. Even in this dark bar, he had his sunglasses perched on his nose. Maybe the fact that they always seemed to be down his nose and not in front of his eyes let him wear them in dim places. It was a something to ponder.

What was he saying? Oh, yes. Schuldig. "Schuldig," Aya agreed. "Except he didn't finish, because he's evil," very, very evil, "so that only made it worse. And now I just-- you."

"Me?"

Did Yoji turn into a parrot when he got drunk? "You've slept with lots of women. You know what to do. Have sex with me."

Yoji said nothing, preferring to gape at Aya in shock.

"Come on. Let's go," Aya said.

"_Now_?" Yoji squeaked.

Aya smoldered back. "Mmm-hmmm."

"What are you doing?"

"Being seductive." Amazing how Tokyo's greatest playboy needed it all spelled out for him. Aya had suspected that Yoji exaggerated and outright lied about his conquests. Still, there had to be some truth in it somewhere. Hopefully.

"Oh. Uh, why?"

Honestly, the man could be such an airhead. "So you'll have sex with me, of course."

"Aya-- Aya, I _can't_."

What? "Are you joking? You've been staring at the breasts since I first got them. You brought me here specifically for this purpose!"

"Well, no, I-- I'd _like_ to. I'd... definitely... like to. I just... can't."

"_Why_?"

"Because as soon as you're sober, you'll beat me to death."

"So?"

"Aya-- you're drunk and you're traumatized. And I have to live with you. In a very small room and oh my God you've been jacking off at night while we were all right _there_?"

"Not successfully," Aya muttered.

Yoji looked stunned. "Oh, man, I don't... I don't know what to tell ya."

"That's okay. Just fuck me and we'll call it even."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"For the love of-- oh, no you don't. You've had enough."

Aya continued flagging the waitress down anyway. Yoji was not his boss. "I like it."

"Obviously." To the waitress, Yoji said, "He's... she's had enough, thanks. We'll be leaving now."

"Oh, good." Aya stood and then sat down on Yoji's side of the booth, sliding over to pin him against the wall. "Because I need you very badly."

Yoji breathed a little harder. "This is like one of my best dreams turned into my worst nightmare, you realize that, right?"

"It's very obvious that I want you." Aya sat almost in Yoji's lap and smiled at what he found. "It's also obvious that you want me. There's no problem here. You said you like me better as a girl."

"When did I-- Oh, shit, you heard that?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"We're still not doing this. I'm male, and you're pretty, so sue me. You're also fucked up in several senses of the term, and damn, you're strong for a woman."

"Thank you." Aya licked the side of Yoji's neck and felt his pulse fluttering there, soft and rapid.

Yoji pushed him away and held him at arm's length when he tried to move back in for more. "We're not doing this, okay? We're not doing this for the thousandth time, okay?"

Of course they weren't. Why would Yoji want to have anything to do with a freak? He'd just been teasing all this time. Aya's throat felt tight and thick. Not even the horniest member of Weiß wanted him, and Yoji would fuck _anything_.

"Oh no," Yoji said.

When the tears came, Aya couldn't stop them. "I'm... sorry. You're right. I am fucked up. Fucked up, and I'm never going to be back to normal again, and I'm so fucking frustrated...." He was completely at the mercy of whatever this was, and he couldn't stop. "It feels like all my nerves are on the outside. I hate this!"

"Aya, I'm.... Shit. C'mere."

Nestled in Yoji's arms, Aya sobbed into his shirt. He hated this. It was humiliating. He couldn't breathe. His eyes and face burned. And he couldn't stop.

Yoji stroked his hair. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just... not going to fuck you to make you feel better, because it wouldn't work. And then you'd kill me."

"Your idea of comforting... sucks," Aya gasped.

"I'm very good at comforting."

"By whose... standards?"

"We're going home. You'll go to sleep, have a hellish morning hangover, and hopefully forget all of this."

"And if I don't forget?"

"Then you'll probably slit my throat."

Slitting Yoji's throat would prevent anyone from ever hearing about what Aya had done tonight, but it seemed an extreme move. Not that Aya ruled it out entirely.

Yoji zipped his jacket for him, which led to certain treacherous portions of his anatomy getting hopeful, but nothing came of it. Yoji was being a gentleman. Having a companion who was neither man nor woman probably removed all temptations to misbehave. That thought made Aya sniffle, so he ruthlessly stamped it down.

The next thing he knew, they were in the car driving home, and he felt so tired, and his stomach had begun to rebel. He held the nausea down, figuring that he'd disgraced himself enough tonight. Yoji handed him a cup of water and said, "Sip that."

The tepid water seemed to help a bit. "Thank you." He'd never drink again. Ever.

Aya kept losing pieces of time. They'd arrived at the trailer somehow. His head spun a bit as he took off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. He didn't bother to undress further, since he didn't think he could negotiate the buttons and zipper. Yoji pulled down the sheets for him, then tucked him in. It brought back old memories of another person he'd been. And it hurt.

"I'm sorry," Yoji said softly as Aya faded away.

  


* * *

Yoji lay in bed, wide awake, surrounded by the sounds of deep breathing and the occasional light snore, and tried very, very hard to forget the feel of Aya's body against his.

_I need you very badly._

It was a difficult proposition.

Without conscious thought, he found his head turning to the side, staring at the shadow that was Aya's bed. Was he-- she-- asleep? Or would she be....

No. He wasn't going to think about that. This was _Aya_, for fuck's sake. Even if the packaging had changed, it was still Fujimiya Aya-- stubborn, infuriating, control freak....

This wasn't helping.

Yoji turned his head resolutely away and scowled at the wall beside him. His hands rested on top of his blanket, and that was where they were going to stay. Because even if Aya's new body was lithe and sexy and graceful and curved so nicely in all the right places, even if Aya's perpetually scowling mouth had a new, undeniably feminine tilt to it, even if the feel of that mouth had branded itself permanently into Yoji's skin... he was still _him_. Still distant, cranky Aya. Still Yoji's teammate. Still very male.

Well, maybe not _very_ male. But mostly male.

Even before his... change... there had been something about Aya that sparked Yoji's chivalrous, and not-so-chivalrous, instincts. The way he looked from a distance, with one hip cocked out and his coat cinched in tightly at his waist. The preternatural prettiness of his features. The exotic, untamed hair.

But Aya was Aya, and Yoji was a ladies' man-- always had been, expected he always would be. And the new female Aya was fun to tease, but he-- she-- was still decidedly off-limits.

Or so Yoji had thought, until tonight.

But Aya had pressed up against him, had climbed into his lap, had offered her new body to Yoji in ways Yoji hadn't even thought Aya was capable of-- distant, cranky, ice king (queen) Aya-- holding him against the wall of their booth with unaccustomed strength, oh God, _begging_ for it, for Yoji to be his (her) first....

His hands had slipped beneath the blanket at some point. He made no move to bring them back up.

Ken and Omi were sound asleep in the next beds, innocently unaware. Aya... Aya was probably passed out cold, done in by the alcohol and the unaccustomed emotional display. Yoji imagined her, sprawled in her bunk, mouth half-open in sleep, hot and wet between her legs, frustrated by some utterly foreign need....

Yoji sympathized. He wanted something pretty foreign himself at the moment.

It's Aya, he told himself firmly, himself and his disobedient hands and his throbbing cock. Stubborn Aya. Infuriating Aya. Control freak Aya.

Very (kinda) _male_ Aya.

And then he came.

Yoji stared at the darkened ceiling for a long time. Then he slipped out of his bed and padded quietly to the bathroom, careful to avoid glancing at Aya's sleeping form on his way.

The eyes that stared back at him from the dimly-lit mirror were wide and confused and not a little bit lost.

"It's Aya," he told himself sternly.

His reflection blinked but didn't respond.

Yoji closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool glass. He felt like he was losing his mind.

He'd never thought of men. Never even considered them. It just was never an option.

But Aya... was no longer a man.

  


* * *

His face buried in his pillow, Aya asked, "Who's there?" Why were his eyes so swollen? Why was he still in his clothes, especially his bra?

Why was everything was so loud?

"It's me," came the cheerful voice from the other side of the room. Omi. Cheerful fucking Omi. "Good morning."

"Hand me my katana," Aya mumbled.

"Why?" Omi sounded wary now. Good.

"I have to cut off my head."

A pause, then: "That's an impulse you should probably ignore."

Aya moaned into the pillow as another aftershock rocked his skull. "What _happened_?"

Omi sounded cheerful again. Damn it. "As I understand it? You got drunk."

He had no one to blame for this torment but himself. He hated that. "Oh, God."

"And I think you traumatized Yoji."

Right, Yoji could be blamed too. That was better. "Good." Wait a minute.... "Traumatized how?"

"He wouldn't say," Omi said brightly. "Are you coming to breakfast?"

The very word set Aya's stomach reeling, so he half-jumped, half-fell out of bed, landing in an ungainly heap on the floor. He scrambled to his feet and barely made it to the bathroom. At least he hadn't disgraced himself in his bunk.

From the bedroom, he faintly heard Omi say, "I'll take that as a no."

Aya ignored him, clutched the cool rim of the toilet, closed his eyes, and prayed for death.

Cheerful, chipper, _loud_ Omi now had an entry on his shit list.

  


* * *

Aya couldn't even approach the kitchen without the food smells threatening to make his stomach fly up his throat and come out his mouth, so he sat down on the sofa in the common room instead and rested his pounding head against the back of it. Never again. He would never drink again.

"Aya? We wanted to talk to you," Omi said softly.

Aya cracked his eyes open to see his three teammates staring down at him with concern. This couldn't be good. "Okay."

"Yoji told us... that Schuldig has bothered you lately."

How drunk did he get? What did he say? "He's been stalking me a little."

"He's been stalking you _too_?" Yoji asked.

Oh, fuck. He didn't. He couldn't have gotten drunk enough to admit to Schuldig feeling him up. "I'm fine."

"Aya, he molested you."

Apparently he could have. "He toyed with me a little. He didn't even finish."

Yoji got a weird look on his face, making Aya wonder what the hell he'd done last night. "We don't think you should go anywhere alone anymore."

"I'm a woman. I'm not _helpless_. I don't need a chaperone."

Omi sat down next to him, while Ken and Yoji remained standing, looming. "We'd do the same thing if we found out that Schuldig was fixated on your usual self. He's dangerous."

"He's a perverted psycho," Yoji muttered.

"You like me better this way, don't you?" Aya growled. "You like me weak. I'm easier to order around."

"You're not weak. The situation has just fucked with your head, and now Schuldig is fucking around with your other parts too."

"Yoji!" Ken said.

"It's true."

"Yeah, but really blunt."

Aya stood abruptly, and winced as his head protested. "This is my business," he said, with slightly less heat than he'd intended. "It doesn't involve Weiß."

Omi's look plainly warned him not to be an idiot. "If it involves Schwarz, it involves Weiß."

"It doesn't involve Schwarz," Aya snapped. "It involves Schuldig."

Yoji raised an eyebrow. "Are you so sure there's a difference?"

"I think this is a personal thing for him, not professional."

"And that's supposed to make it better?"

"It means that I don't think it's a Schwarz plot."

"Aya, we're not saying that you need a babysitter," Omi said. "We're saying that you've been targeted by a very dangerous person with abilities that can't be easily defended against. If Schuldig had fixated on any of the rest of us, we would do the same thing."

"Or are you better than us?" Yoji asked, a challenging glint in his green eyes.

Aya saw that he couldn't win this. If he continued to argue and complain, he would only seem irrational and possibly hysterical to them, and they would remain glued to his side anyway. "No. Fine, then." He sat down again and tried not to let his sudden dizziness show.

They smiled their victorious 'we've made Aya see sense' smiles, and Aya hated them all. Hated them for their complacency and normalcy. What did they know of anything he needed? He didn't know, so how could they?

And why didn't Yoji have a hangover too?

"That's good. It's better this way," Omi said.

Aya doubted that.

Ken and Omi walked off, content in their noble heroism or whatever, leaving Aya alone with Yoji, who handed him a glass of water. "It'll help if you drink that," Yoji said.

Déjà vu hit Aya forcibly as he sipped it. "Yoji, what else happened last night?"

"What? Oh, nothing."

"Like hell. I mentioned Schuldig. I must have been smashed off my ass. What else happened?" Aya had a sudden image of himself sitting in Yoji's lap and clinging to him. The clinging suggested that the sitting had been voluntary. "Oh, shit."

Yoji looked very nervous. "Nothing happened, okay? You just-- um."

"What?" Aya demanded. Another image flashed into his mind, of him... burying his face in Yoji's shirt? No, that couldn't.... "Damn it, Kudou--"

"Sorrygottagobye!" Yoji spun and dashed out of the trailer.

"Yoji!" Aya stood quickly, making his head spin a bit, and ran to the door, only to recoil as the schoolgirls turned their eager faces towards him. He ducked back inside before they saw... _them_... and fumed. Deprived of the option of pursuit, he could only seethe.

He leaned back against the door and closed his eyes. He had... with Yoji. And wanted... said....

He felt sick again.

Ever since his transformation, Aya had pushed himself through the routine of daily life, for the most part not thinking about the implications. He could still be himself, only with breasts and... other female parts, and eventually things would go back to normal, because he had no other options. He couldn't research his condition; he wouldn't know where to start. He didn't have a name for it. He didn't even know what had caused it.

But now _himself_ had gotten very, very drunk and had-- he squeezed his eyes shut tighter-- said some things to Yoji that he still couldn't completely recall but knew with dread certainty that he eventually would, and it was seeming more and more obvious that something else about him had changed, something beyond the physical.

Or maybe he had been changing for a while, and had just now noticed.

Aya could feel his control slipping, bit by bit, day by day. He had shielded himself in his duty, his vengeance, for so long; now those shields were gone, and he didn't have anything to take their place. Ran was long dead. Aya no longer had a purpose. Identity was a fluid thing, to be discarded when it was no longer useful. So who was he now?

Apparently, a very horny woman who couldn't hold her drink.

Aya sighed and composed himself. He had to work. There were plants that needed to be watered, flowers that needed to be arranged. Memories that definitely needed to be avoided. So he had disgraced himself in front of Yoji. He was, he thought grimly, starting to get used to it.

  


* * *

Yoji slammed the door behind him, cowering behind Ken and Omi until he was sure Aya wasn't coming out. Then he rose and brushed himself off with all the dignity he could muster.

Ken and Omi were staring at him. He said defensively, "What?"

Ken just shook his head and walked away, handing a waiting schoolgirl her bouquet.

Cautiously Omi said, "Um. What-- what happened, exactly?"

"Not now," Yoji said out of the corner of his mouth as he favored the gathered schoolgirls with a welcoming grin. They all smiled happily back at him. He thought he heard a muffled squeal.

Those girls could be creepy sometimes.

Omi sighed. He looked tired and stressed, and Yoji frowned at him and said, "You getting enough sleep, kid?"

"I'm fine," Omi said tersely, handing another girl a bouquet and accepting her money with a tight nod.

"Now you're sounding like Aya."

Omi looked amused. It was an improvement. "Someone has to pick up the slack."

"Especially with Aya out of commission," Yoji said, raising his voice for the benefit of their audience. "This whole vacation thing's getting old. When's that guy gonna come back to work?"

Omi shot him a warning glance, but played along readily enough. "Aya-kun still isn't feeling well. He won't be back till he feels like himself again."

Yoji couldn't hold back a snort. As if on cue, a girl near the back of the crowd called out, "What's wrong with him? Is he okay?"

A worried murmur rippled through the crowd. As Omi reassured them with Weiß's prepared story, Yoji felt Ken coming to stand beside him.

Under his breath, Ken asked, "What happened last night, Yoji?"

"Not now, Ken," Yoji said again, starting to move away. Ken stopped him with a hand on his shoulder-- not quite restraining, but not quite friendly either.

Yoji stared at the hand, then gave the hand's owner a pointed stare. "Yes, Ken?"

"There's nothing going on between you two, is there?"

"Are you serious?" Yoji rolled his eyes. "It's _Aya_."

He very carefully did not think about the previous night. That... had not been Aya.

Besides, anything Aya did to him now would be more likely to involve something sharp and deadly than... other things. Far more pleasant things.

Ken's eyes bored into his. Yoji stared back unflinchingly.

Eventually Ken took his hand away. "Keep that in mind," he said, with a significant look at Omi.

Yoji blinked. "Wait a minute. I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself because, what, the kid called first dibs?"

"Of course not," Ken said. "You're going to keep your hands to yourself because it's Aya. Right?"

Yoji blinked again. Ken smiled enigmatically and turned back to his work.

Yoji watched him bustle about with a thoughtful frown. He was cheerfully oblivious most of the time, but sometimes Ken could be more perceptive than Yoji gave him credit for.

Sometimes Ken could be downright scary.

  


* * *

"Open the door, Yoji," Aya said with a sigh.

From the other side of the bathroom door, Yoji's muffled voice demanded, "Are you armed?"

Aya hesitated, then said, "Yes." Yoji wouldn't believe him if he lied anyway.

"Then I ain't comin' out."

Aya stared at the door and wondered if he could break it down. The trailer was flimsy. It was possible.

The others were outside in their open-air market. Yoji had snuck back into the trailer when he wasn't paying attention, presumably to relieve himself, then had barricaded himself inside when Aya had discovered his presence.

"Yoji," Aya said, as patiently as he could. "I am not going to kill you." Yet.

"Can I get that in writing?"

"How long do you plan to stay in there?"

He heard a faint rustle. Then, "I've almost got a full pack. I could last a while."

Aya sighed again. "I just want to talk."

"So talk."

"Not through this door."

There was a long pause; then he heard the lock being turned, and the door eased open a crack. All Aya could see was Yoji's nose and his sunglasses perched on the end of it.

Warily the voice behind the sunglasses said, "How much do you remember?"

"Everything," Aya said grimly. The memories had slowly flowed in as he'd worked alone; even now, he cringed inwardly at the recollection. Fondling Yoji. Pinning Yoji against the wall. Asking-- no, _begging_ Yoji to fuck him. Sobbing into Yoji's shirt....

No. Aya pushed the images aside. He would repress. He'd decided.

Yoji tried to slam the door shut. Aya wedged his boot in the crack. It helped to have narrower feet. Fighting against Yoji's grip from the other side, Aya managed to open the door enough to let him slither inside, then block it with his body. The trailer's bathroom was tiny, so they stood uncomfortably close by necessity. From the smell, Yoji must have been chain smoking.

He met Yoji's panicked eyes and added, "I also remember you refusing to do," Aya took a deep, painful breath, "anything."

Almost primly Yoji said, "I do want to live."

"So you mentioned." Aya fixed him with a scowl; Yoji paled. "You have one chance to do so."

"I'm all ears."

"You," Aya said firmly, "are going to forget everything that happened last night. I will do the same. If you say anything to anybody, I _will_ kill you."

"Not a problem," Yoji assured him. "But...."

"What?"

"Schuldig."

Aya closed his eyes.

"You can't just ignore him," Yoji insisted. "He's dangerous."

"So am I."

"Yeah, but Aya, you may be outclassed here. Remember Sakura? He _made_ her shoot you. If he gets bored with just violating you physically...."

Yoji didn't finish the thought aloud. He didn't have to. Aya imagined Schuldig controlling his mind, his thoughts, and felt nauseous again.

"I know that you hate the idea of us following you everywhere," Yoji said, "but that's exactly what that bastard is counting on. He figured you wouldn't tell us and you'd be trying to take him on alone, which makes his job easier. We're sticking to you now, and you should get used to it. Fighting us on it or trying to duck us won't do anything but help Schuldig."

As much as Aya hated it, he had to agree. "I know. I'll... I'll be good."

"Promise?"

"Yes," Aya snapped. He'd agreed. Yoji didn't have to rub it in.

"Good."

"Are you getting out yet?"

"Not with you blocking the door."

Aya moved aside and gestured at the door for Yoji to go first.

"I don't trust you at my back," Yoji said with a smile.

"I don't trust you not to close the door behind me and stay in here."

"Then we're at an impasse."

They stared each other down for a few minutes, then Yoji said, "This is stupid."

"Agreed."

"Can you guys just butt heads, knock each other out cold, and get on with life?" Omi yelled from the other side of the door. "Grow up already!"

"I'll go out first," Yoji said. "We don't want to tempt Omi's wrath."

As Yoji moved to the door, he brushed Aya's arm, making him shiver. And Yoji noticed, damn him.

  


* * *

"That guy is staring at you, Aya," Ken said as he glared back at the offender.

Aya didn't look. There was no point. "People are always staring at me lately. Breasts seem to give an excuse for rude behavior."

"That's only part of it." Ken grinned as he checked Aya out, then paled and stopped as he realized what he was doing. "Uh. Sorry. And I did notice the other people, but that guy's the worst. Somebody should teach him a lesson."

"Please don't," Aya said coolly. As guardians went, Ken was damnably overbearing. "I already had to stop going to one market after Schuldig made a scene. I don't want to exile myself from another because you attacked someone."

"What kind of scene?"

"I really don't want to discuss it."

Ken's eyes widened. "He--"

"No! Not that! He just loudly played the jealous ex-boyfriend." Aya sighed. At this rate, the very sight of a produce aisle would cause traumatizing flashbacks.

"You shouldn't have to put up with that."

"I know why I'm annoyed at being stared at, but I don't understand what you're so upset about."

"It's rude!"

"And?"

"And you're obviously with me."

"But it wouldn't be so wrong if I were an unescorted woman? The problem is that this man is disrespecting _you_?"

"No!"

Aya resisted the urge to sigh. Men.

He _did not_ just think that.

  


* * *

Aya aimed one last punch at the bag but didn't feel any better than when he'd started. Ken had been overprotective of him. Sometimes Ken had forgotten who and what he really was and _flirted_ with him. Ken would be just regular Ken with him for a while, but then he'd do little acts of "gallantry" or a certain kind of smile, or there would be a different flavor to some of the attempts at banter. As soon as Ken remembered or Aya snapped at him, he'd become embarrassed, but it kept happening. Ken flirted with women as a default setting, automatically, just as Yoji did, even if Ken was sweeter and a bit awkward at it.

Ken and Yoji and so many others saw him only as a body now.

Prior to this, Aya hadn't given his body much thought. It carried his personality around. It did his bidding or failed, and if it failed he disciplined it. It demanded fuel and rest, which he gave it when necessary. It was a tool, one he trained and refined to work at the highest level of performance possible.

Turned female, the tool now had a longer, more insistent list of demands, or perhaps it had simply been waiting for its moment to rebel all along. That was bad enough, but it seemed that everyone around him had changed along with it. Or simply showed aspects of themselves they'd never turned on him before.

Aya didn't want the stares or flirting and certainly hadn't asked for them but just existing like this and looking the way he did seemed to have taken the choice out of his hands. People stared at him no matter where he went, as if they were entitled. He couldn't go out running without wearing the baggiest clothing he owned. Otherwise he wore big coats.

Stupid of him to expect that anything anywhere would ever be fair, but apparently he'd retained some shreds of innocence.

Aya was just lowering the heavy bag from its hook in the ceiling when he heard Yoji say, "Do you want someone to spar with?"

He straightened slowly and turned around, his mind already buzzing with suspicion. Yoji was slouched in the doorway, sunglasses pushed up on his nose, covering his eyes for once; a lit cigarette dangled from his lips.

Aya frowned.

"It's a simple question," Yoji said, sounding defensive. Yoji had been sounding defensive a lot lately.

"I know," Aya said, more to buy time than anything else. Then, "Where?"

Yoji did a lazy, full-body shrug. "Out behind the trailer, I figured. No one'll be around this time of night."

Aya didn't answer. He rolled the heavy bag into the corner, thinking hard. Did he want to spar with Yoji? He felt his face flush, and tried to dismiss the events of the previous night, with limited success. He had displayed far too much weakness in front of this man already. Did he really want to tempt fate?

On the other hand, sparring was a good idea, tactically speaking. He wasn't likely to be attacked by a punching bag in the field, and Aya didn't want to ask Omi to spar, not in light of the boy's crush. He didn't want to run the risk of leading him on. And Ken had been scrupulously hands-off ever since he'd accidentally felt Aya up while trying to stop him from killing Yoji that first night.

Some small part of Aya wondered if he weren't trying to convince himself that it wasn't a bad idea. That part clearly needed to shut up and mind its own business.

He dusted his hands off and turned around. Yoji looked uncharacteristically skittish, like he was going to bolt any second. Aya said, "Okay," and saw some of his own apprehension reflected in the lines around Yoji's mouth.

Yoji slipped off his jacket and his sunglasses, piling them neatly on the floor. Aya opened the chest that held their protective padding and tossed Yoji his set, then started to pull on his own, watching in silence as his teammate did the same.

Aya had a new chest guard that shielded the breasts from interference as well as harm. Yoji's eyes flickered back and forth as he strapped it on, then resolutely turned away.

Aya slipped the mouth guard between his teeth, pulled on his gloves, and said indistinctly, "I'm ready."

Yoji smiled and stepped aside. "Ladies first."

"Then neither of us would go."

Aya preceded Yoji into the cool, dew-damp night, circling around to the back of the trailer. As Yoji had predicted, there was no one in sight.

Yoji half-smiled as he lowered his body into a defensive crouch. "Nothing below the belt."

"Same," Aya said automatically, and scowled at Yoji's muffled snort.

They started slow, circling each other, sizing up their respective weaknesses. As Aya felt his mind slip into his battle trance, his body was no longer female or male but simply an instrument, a weapon, a tool to be used towards an end. And if the weight distribution on that tool was slightly different than he was used to, well, he had to adjust, that was all.

For the first time in weeks he felt normal again.

Meeting Yoji's eyes, he saw a similar awareness, a change in the way his teammate looked at him. With his body rendered androgynous by the heavy padding, Aya must not have seemed female to Yoji now.

It was, Aya told himself, a relief.

The fight occurred mostly in silence. Yoji held back until Aya started to attack in earnest, then began to block, and then to throw kicks and punches of his own. Aya moved and hit and blocked, his body doing exactly what he told it to do. It felt wonderful. With Yoji going full force, it was even better, as they moved so fast and with such intent that a casual watcher wouldn't have been able to follow what was going on. He didn't even feel the impacts of the few hits he'd taken.

When they finished, Aya felt warm and loose and satisfied. Much better than just hitting a punching bag, especially since Yoji had provided a living indicator of how well he'd done. He bowed to Yoji, grateful.

He knew he was smiling a bit as they returned to the trailer and he put his sparring gear away. Yoji was smiling too as he did the same at his side. They said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.

Yoji stood close enough that Aya could feel the heat rising from his body. Then he was closer still, close enough to feel his heart pounding and the sudden press of his lips against Aya's, then the rest of his body pressing against Aya's, pushing him against the wall.... It felt good, and Yoji blocked out the rest of the world. Instinct took over, just as it had during the sparring. Aya kissed back, fisted his hands in the back of Yoji's shirt, and changed his stance, putting Yoji's thigh hard between his legs, almost right where he wanted it. Well, he wasn't very experienced in being a slut. Wait....

When Aya stiffened and stopped participating, Yoji pulled back a little and stared at him apprehensively. He clearly expected to be punched. Yet the defiant expression on his face seemed to indicate that, to his mind at least, the kiss had been worth it.

Aya, for his part, was experiencing an emotion he had become all too familiar with over the past few weeks: utter bewilderment. Once again, he simply had no idea what to do next. He had his back literally against the wall.

There was at least one positive aspect to this body; without a dick, he could not get tellingly, embarrassingly hard.

Although, judging by the way Yoji's nostrils flared and his pupils dilated, there were apparently other indicators. Aya's initially enthusiastic response probably gave him away as well.

Without conscious thought-- with, in fact, his conscious mind screaming at him unheeded to stop, fight, get away, _end_ this-- he pulled Yoji in closer and gave his hips an experimental thrust and felt something hard and hot push right back, eagerly seeking. He bit his lip and somehow managed to hold back a groan.

Yoji recoiled as though he had in fact been hit. "Aya," he choked out between pants.

Aya swallowed and said hoarsely, "Yeah?"

He could do this. It wasn't like he was throwing himself at just anybody. And it would be so easy. Yoji was long and lean and he smelled like clean sweat and cigarette smoke and crushed wet grass, and his body fit against Aya's like a puzzle piece, his green eyes smoldering, his sweat-damp hair plastered to his forehead....

So easy. If he could just....

But. No. This was Kudou Yoji. Flirt, layabout, eternal pain in the ass. It had taken Aya long enough to earn his respect as a teammate. He couldn't give him the satisfaction.

Couldn't.

He shoved, angrily, and Yoji scrambled back, the nervous look in his eyes again. Aya tried to gather his scattered wits. He'd almost given in again. And he wasn't even drunk this time.

This was getting ridiculous.

Yoji began, "Aya," and Aya snapped, "Shut up." Yoji had undoubtedly planned the whole thing, but why? Just to fuck him? Then why hadn't he taken his chance the night before? If he was just toying with Aya....

Then Yoji said quietly, "Sorry," and Aya spat, "Don't."

"I didn't mean for that to happen," Yoji insisted. He sounded shaken. "I mean--"

Aya glared.

"Sorry. Shutting up now." Yoji stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, dragging long and hard. His hands were trembling.

Aya wondered if Yoji was anywhere near his own level of frustration. He hoped so. Especially with those tight jeans, it'd serve him right....

No. No tight jeans. No tight anything.

"I'm going to bed," he spat, storming past Yoji to the door. "Alone."

"Oh, no, of course," Yoji said quickly, still in that strange, nervous voice. "Sure. Of course."

Aya reached the door and spun around.

"You tell _anyone_," he hissed venomously, "I hear one veiled comment from Ken or Omi-- just _one_\--"

Yoji held his hands up defensively. "'Course not. There's no-- don't worry," he assured Aya, sounding almost earnest. "I wouldn't."

Aya glowered at him for another long moment, then turned again and stalked away, fuming.

  


* * *

Omi stayed very still when he heard the door open, trying to keep his breathing even. His heart was pounding, and he'd clenched his hands into fists in his sheets. Angry tears pricked behind his closed eyelids.

How could he? How could Yoji do that to Aya, take advantage of him like that? Of course Aya was confused, needy, probably overwhelmed; the last thing he needed was Kudou Yoji adding to that.

God, Yoji was just like a dog in heat, sniffing after every pretty woman who crossed his path. Never mind that it was really Aya in that body, Aya he was loudly throwing against walls and having his way with, Aya whom he'd never given a second look before....

The footsteps stopped in front of Aya's bunk, hesitated, then moved towards the bathroom. Cautiously Omi opened one eye and saw Aya's unmistakably female form silhouetted against the light. Yoji was nowhere to be seen. The sudden distant slamming of the main trailer door indicated that he wouldn't be back for a while.

Omi closed his eyes again as he heard the shower start. He'd talk to Yoji in the morning. Tell him how thoughtless and irresponsible he was being.

Omi had to look out for Aya's best interests, after all. Especially if no one else was going to.

  


* * *

Yoji caught the bartender's eye and gestured for another round.

She smiled at him as she topped off his drink. Her outfit was artfully punk, ripped in several strategic places; her makeup was deliberately smeared. Yoji smiled back.

Then she said, "What happened to that girl you were with last night? You know, the redhead?"

Yoji blinked, incredulous. "I bring girls in here all the time, and _that_ one you remember?"

The bartender shrugged. "She's pretty memorable."

"She is that," Yoji muttered.

"Besides, you two put on quite a show."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he drank.

The bartender's painted lips curled into a sneer. "Let me guess. Fucked her and ran, never to be seen again, am I right?"

Yoji scowled at her over the rim of his glass. "Aren't you supposed to be understanding and sympathetic and shit?"

"Not that kind of operation," she said glibly.

"I hope it's not the kind of operation where you expect a tip."

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"No, as a matter of fact," Yoji retorted. "She-- well, she's a friend. Kind of."

"Kind of a friend."

"Yeah. Well, we worked together. And now we're... roommates." It was odd, trying to twist his living circumstances into some semblance of normality. It drove home the absurdity that was his life. "And she's had, well, a rough time lately--"

"So you decided to get her drunk and sleep with her?"

"No!" Yoji exclaimed. "Nothing happened, okay?"

"What then?"

"Don't you have customers or something?"

The bartender nodded at the long row of empty stools beside him. "Sunday's a slow night. So what, then?"

Yoji drained the last of his drink and gestured for another; the bartender obediently grabbed the bottle. "I just thought it'd take hi-- her mind off things. I didn't... honestly didn't think she'd...."

Beg him for it.

"We've known each other too long," he said miserably. "She knows me too well for that."

The bartender's eyebrows shot up. "Uh-oh."

"And, I mean, she's obviously... incredibly beautiful, but...." _But she's really a guy_, he didn't say. Yoji pushed his glass away. Maybe he should stop talking about Aya before he got truly shitfaced.

He smiled at the bartender. "What's _your_ name?"

"Mikae," she said warily.

"What are you--"

"Not a chance."

Yoji sighed. Clearly he was losing his touch.

"Have another drink," Mikae said, not unkindly. "I find it helps."

He hadn't meant that kiss to happen tonight. Really he hadn't. He'd only suggested the sparring as a peace gesture. But they'd both enjoyed it, and at the end there had been that beautiful smile on Aya's face that Yoji had put there. Who wouldn't have responded to that? Especially when Aya had been so willing at first....

Sober, Aya still wanted him, just not enough to go all the way. Yet. Yoji had faith in his abilities.

He had to accept the idea that he wanted Aya badly enough to get stupid around him. No, first he had to drink, then later he could try to accept that idea.

  


* * *

Yoji was hungover all morning, for as much morning as Yoji was awake for, so Omi waited until the afternoon break to say, "Yoji, I have to talk to you."

"This sounds bad." Yoji looked so damned flippant about it. "What?"

"I heard you slam Aya against the wall last night."

"That was purely consensual wall slamming. Trust me, he wasn't protesting. Until he did, and then I let him go. No harm done."

"No harm? Aya's a mess right now, and you're taking advantage of that. You only want his body."

The grin Omi wanted to smack off his face deepened. "You've seen his body."

"There's more to him than that, but Kudou Yoji, ladies' man, wouldn't be interested."

"You have no idea what I'm interested in. Besides, he knows exactly what he's doing."

"He sucks at interpersonal stuff as himself. You want me to believe that's changed now that he's a woman?"

Yoji smirked. "Slam Aya a little more, why don't you?"

"I'm trying to stop a tragedy in the making. The two of you getting together won't work, because he's going to change back eventually, and you'll be an asshole to him, and he'll be annoyed and maybe even hurt that you're being an asshole. Meanwhile, you'll probably be disgusted with yourself over having jumped a man. We don't need the angst, yelling, and ice that will ensue."

"Kid, the fact that you're an interested party just undercuts your effort here."

Omi bristled at the 'kid', as Yoji had intended him to, but refused to lose his cool. "Don't mess with Aya. He has enough trouble."

"Or you'll do what?"

"I don't know for sure, but I have a lot of ideas. I might have to try all of them out on you."

"I'm not scared."

It sucked that people looked at him and didn't see him as being even a potential threat. "Then do it because it's the right thing."

"Sure, Omi," Yoji answered, the very image of insincerity. "Can I go back to work now, since I have to ask you about everything first?"

"Yeah." Omi had the bad feeling that he'd just pushed Yoji into doing something stupid.

When Yoji paired himself off with Aya for the night's mission, Omi's bad feeling worsened. Unfortunately, his role in the night's events prevented him from offering himself as a replacement, and the same applied for Ken. He'd have to trust Yoji.

They were so screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

Yoji noticed that Aya looked really put out over having him as his shadow during the mission, but Aya said nothing, being unable to complain about their performance while paired together. Well, Aya could complain, but his complaints would have no basis in reality. They efficiently went through their opponents like a two-man-- sort of two-man --demolition team.

When they reached the last room, they heard Schuldig's voice ask, "Afraid to face me alone, Aya?" Aya and Yoji scanned the room with their eyes but Yoji didn't see him, and it didn't seem like Aya did either. "No, that's not it. You'd love to get me alone, but jealous teammates got in your way. I know all about that. Hey, Yoji, you sure you really want to be here?"

"Positive," Yoji answered.

"I can understand that. You know from experience what a slut he can be. He desperately wanted me to finish him, but I believe in leaving the audience hungry for the next time. At least I didn't make him beg like you did."

Bastard. Yoji glanced at Aya and saw understandable fury. "You're all talk and almost no action, Schuldig," Aya said quietly. "Maybe you stopped before you could show how inadequate you are."

"I had him pinned against a wall with his legs open, pushing himself into my hand, Yoji," Schuldig said. "You Weiß boys must be cold if you'd leave him so desperate that he'd fall so easily for me. He's responsive like you wouldn't believe, Yoji, hot and wet and ashamed and eager. Too bad you didn't take a shot at him before I got there. Now he has to be drunk to spread his legs for you."

Aya's mouth twitched a little as Schuldig alternately humiliated and ignored him, but he otherwise showed no sign of losing his cool. He kept pacing his side of the room to look for their enemy. Yoji, on the other hand, wanted to rip Schuldig apart with his bare hands and didn't care if anyone could see it. He didn't care about the jabs taken at him-- he knew the truth --but hearing Aya being spoken of so rudely and reductively and with all intent to hurt him made Yoji see red. Schuldig wanted to use the company Weiß had put around Aya to protect him to wound him further, and Yoji refused to let that happen.

Aya mouthed, "Keep him talking."

"Why?" Yoji mouthed back. Why would Aya possibly want that bastard to say more?

Aya glared and kept searching his side of the room. Oh.

"At least he came to me on his own," Yoji shouted. "You had to throw him around and pin him to a wall. Doesn't sound like anything you should be bragging about."

"Na, Yoji, you just don't understand the deep and abiding bond Aya shares with me."

Aya opened a large cabinet to reveal a camera and sound equipment.

"You didn't think I'd actually face the two of you all by myself, did you? You're _killers_." Yoji could hear the smirking smile in Schuldig's voice. "Someday I'll get you alone again, Aya, and we'll take up where we left off. You'll like that."

"You get me alone and I'll run you through," Aya growled.

"Sounds like fun, but you'd have to be a man again for that. How has the effort to change back been working out for you?"

Yoji expected Aya to bludgeon the equipment into silence with his sheathed katana, but after a few tense moments of rage Aya simply turned it all off instead.

"We've cleared the premises," Omi said through Yoji's earpiece.

"We did our end as well," Aya said.

Mission completed. Time to go home.

Yoji looked at Aya, who wouldn't look at him. This would be an interesting trip.

He and Aya left the building in silence. They reached the car in silence. Rode in silence. Yoji couldn't take it. It left him alone with his thoughts about what he'd heard and how Aya had to be reacting to it. Finally, he said, "Listen, I know what he said isn't true--"

"It is," Aya said quietly.

Yoji blinked. "What?"

Aya stared blankly out the windshield, not seeming to see the road in front of them. Streetlights illuminated his face briefly as they passed, then darkened again, creating an effect almost like a slide show. Fujimiya Aya, stop-motion animation.

After a moment he said gruffly, "Forget it."

"Oh no, you don't." Yoji pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine, and Aya turned and stared at him. Yoji stared back. "You're not getting out of this one, Fujimiya. We're sitting right here until you tell me how exactly you figure you're a sex-crazed nympho lusting after Schuldig's hot bod."

"Fine," Aya said, and reached for the door handle.

Yoji lunged across him, grabbing his hand before he could open the door. "For God's sake! Would you just _talk_ to me for once?"

Aya made a strangled sound, and Yoji blinked again, only then realizing the position he was in: sprawled halfway across Aya's lap, clutching his hands. He felt his body start to respond and pulled abruptly back.

"See?" Aya said, sounding aggrieved. "That's exactly what I mean. I keep having sex thoughts! Thoughts about sex! Constantly! And you guys are _always around_! And now you're panting all over me and Omi's there with his puppy-dog eyes and Schuldig keeps following me around and I just don't know what to _do_!"

Yoji stared at him, taken aback by the unexpected outburst. Aya scowled back challengingly.

Eventually Yoji said, "Have you considered a qualified therapist?"

Aya huffed irritably and reached for the door again, and again Yoji grabbed his hands. "Okay, look, I'm sorry. I know you're being serious. But damn it, Aya, if you'd just talk about these things.... I mean, if it's really that big a problem for you, there are shops we can go to--"

"No," Aya said immediately. He looked a little faint. "Not a chance."

Yoji cocked an eyebrow at him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. So a woman has certain needs--"

"Oh, for--" Without warning, Aya wrenched his hands away, grabbed Yoji's head, and kissed him.

For a moment Yoji felt like he'd been socked in the stomach. One minute he'd been teasing a teammate and the next he suddenly had an armful of Aya, a very _female_ armful of Aya, mouth pressed against his like a drowning man gulping for air-- or, he supposed, a drowning woman....

And then the shock faded and instinct took over, and he slid his arms over Aya's shoulders and buried his hands in the thick red hair, deepening the kiss. Aya's thigh was pressed up against his, a warm, yielding pressure that made him feel unsteady, and her lips were unpracticed but eager, tongue thrusting enthusiastically against his own.

_He's responsive like you wouldn't believe._

Yoji stiffened, and he felt Aya go still in his arms. Then she was pushing him away, swearing softly but fervently.

"Aya, no--" Yoji tightened his grip, keeping Aya close. "It's okay. I just-- it's all right. Don't freak out, okay?"

Aya snorted softly. Her hair was disheveled, her mouth wet and swollen, her pupils almost completely dilated, with only the smallest sliver of violet visible around the edges. She looked--

He. _He_ looked beautiful.

"I don't know why I'm doing this," Aya muttered, pressing the heels of his palms over his eyes-- but not, thankfully, pulling away.

Yoji hesitated. "Maybe because you need it?"

"I don't need anything."

"And therein lies the rub."

Aya looked up at him then, pained and needy, and Yoji felt his gut clench. God, he couldn't. This wasn't just a woman, willing though his mind seemed to forget it. This was _Aya_.

And Aya was his teammate.

And Aya was vulnerable, which happened rarely enough that it bore repeating-- _Aya was vulnerable_, emotionally and physically, to Schuldig and his perverse form of sexual blackmail. If Aya was weakening, was finding the telepath harder and harder to resist....

They were teammates. They watched each other's backs.

And, lord, but Aya was beautiful.

Yoji kissed her-- him, he reminded himself sternly, remember what you're doing here-- again, less fevered than before, a slow, languorous exploration. Aya's lips parted willingly under his, letting him in.

They parted again, not as precipitously, and Aya made a sound that could have been a scoff or a soundless laugh. Yoji raised his eyebrows. "Something funny?"

"Not at all," Aya said, and kissed him again, pulling herself halfway into his lap this time.

Yoji pulled back with some difficulty and gasped, "We could go somewhere--"

"God, no," Aya said fervently. "We're doing this _now_."

Yoji swallowed. "Okay, well, I don't, uh--" He quailed under Aya's wild, fierce glare, and said quickly, "We'll figure something out. Oh!"

He dove for the glove compartment, ignoring Aya's muffled protest, and fished around until he found what he was looking for. "Got it!" he crowed, brandishing the condom packet triumphantly.

Aya paled.

Yoji lowered his hand, chastened. "Not so much, huh? We'll do something else then. Start slow--"

"No," Aya said stubbornly, and Yoji noted with amusement that Aya was in fact a girl for whom 'no' meant 'yes'. "I want-- that."

Yoji regarded him, suddenly feeling very old and cynical. "Can you even say it?"

"I can hurt you very badly," Aya warned.

"You're turning me on."

"You mean I wasn't before?"

Yoji tossed the condom back into the glove compartment with a sigh. Aya opened his mouth-- to protest, probably-- and Yoji said, "Keep your panties on, Fujimiya. Or, well, take them off, I guess is more to the point."

Aya looked wary. "What are you going to do?"

"I," Yoji said, "am going to give you what you need."

"That sounds like a threat, coming from you."

"Doesn't have to be. Let's take it to the backseat. Yeah, we're both flexible, but why not make ourselves comfortable?"

Aya stared at him, then opened his door and got out. And went into the backseat. Score. Yoji grinned.

When he joined Aya, he saw Aya's sheathed katana on the floor, lying there dark and malevolent. It could mean that Aya had voluntarily disarmed himself or that he wanted it within easy reach to slice bits of Yoji off if the situation called for it. The last thought made Yoji harder. He'd always known he was a sick bastard.

Aya noticed him noticing the katana, then looked away to take off his boots and the somehow still pristine white long coat, leaving the boots near the katana and the coat draped over the back of the front passenger seat. Yoji took advantage of the opportunity to drink _her_ in without her staring back, his eyes lingering over the lush, lithe curves sheathed in tight black, the faded rose of her pouty lips, the porcelain pale skin and permanently disheveled scarlet hair, and the flicker of lilac when she opened her eyes. Virgin and pure, hungry yet hesitant, exotically beautiful and dangerous. Aya had been correct about the frilly and lacy undergarments Yoji would have chosen for her; they wouldn't have been right at all.

Aya's chest rose and fell distractingly with her rapid breathing. "So?" she asked, her deep voice sounding deeper and huskier.

"So. Lie back."

"I feel ridiculous."

"You look great." He slid forward and pressed her against the door as he kissed her. He started with soft and fleeting kisses, getting her used to him, teasing her to make her demand something more substantial, then deepened the kisses, getting more serious, finally parting her lips with his tongue. She moaned and squirmed against him, pushing her hips up to meet him and running her gloved fingers through his hair, pulling it a little.

Responsive. Definitely.

When he pulled away a little, he looked at her again. She looked back at him with heavy-lidded, dilated eyes and slick, parted lips, a slight blush lending some color to her pale face.

"God, you're beautiful," Yoji said as he took off his gloves.

She made a derisive sound that turned to a whimper as he set his hand between her parted legs and stroked. He may have been the second man to do this, but he'd be the first to give her what she wanted. Schuldig's attempt to brand Aya with his touch couldn't be allowed to succeed. Yoji judged how hard and how fast to go by the movements she made and the way she breathed his name at times. Kissing her neck, he smelled clean sweat and a hint of blood. Perfect.

She quivered. "I want the pants off. Now."

"I'd have to stop what I'm doing to unbutton them."

"Then I'll do it."

"I'll undo your pants if you'll take off your shirt and bra."

"You want this as much as I do. You can't do much while my pants are on."

"I can be more patient than you realize."

She sighed. "You've been dying to get a look at them."

"I want more than a look."

"I'm sure."

He stroked harder, making Aya buck. "What's it gonna be?"

Her dirty look should have incinerated him, but she started to unbuckle the straps that held her top together, slowly revealing pale skin and a white sports bra. The slow strip made him twitch, so he took vengeance by being even slower, ignoring the urgency of his lust to try to one-up her. Once she had the front of the shirt open, he unfastened one button. When she took it off, he unfastened the next. All that skin, all his.... After the bra came off, revealing a lovely pair of perfect breasts, he finished the buttons and pulled down her pants and panties.

And stared. "You don't shave."

Aya looked at him with obvious annoyance. "Think about that for a moment and figure out why that's a stupid comment."

But she didn't have much hair, and what she did have was soft. He stroked up her thighs and smiled as she quivered.

He had to take a closer look at her breasts, especially since he'd never seen a naked pair that big that didn't have the gravity-defying pertness imparted by implants before. Real. They felt warm, soft, and heavy in his hands. As he stroked them with feather touches, he wondered how it would feel to put his face to them....

Aya looked deeply annoyed. "I'd ask you if you wanted to be alone with them, but I'm attached, so that's impossible anyway."

"They're beautiful." He smiled as Aya's expression showed her taking that as a compliment, then getting irked at herself for it. "I can worship them and make you happy too." He took one rosy nipple in his mouth and sucked, while he returned his hand to its former place and occupation. Aya threw her head back against the window and made some wonderful noises in response.

Yoji realized that he was still fully clothed, but he was so turned on by watching Aya moan and writhe that it didn't matter much. She was hot and wet and pushing herself against him for more of everything. This was power, making your partner want you this badly, being the one who could make her feel like this. Making Aya this crazy was incredible, especially with Aya quivering in reaction and looking so sweet and transcendent while in the grip of pleasure. No wonder Schuldig couldn't stay away.

Besides, tending to his partner's needs first always made Yoji look more sensitive.

He wanted to fuck her. She'd like it once she got into it, he knew that. But she was a virgin, hesitant, and formerly male. Don't think about that. He would make her come without that, then later maybe she'd want to try the rest.

"This will blow your mind," Yoji said. And some other parts too. He bid fond, temporary farewell to her breasts and kissed his way down her flat stomach and lower, refusing to think about what had been there not so long ago. Lower.... Oh, she was so hot and wet for him. Well, he'd show her what a sweet mouth he had.

  


* * *

First Yoji had done things to the breasts that made Aya think that maybe they weren't such bad things to have after all, and now he settled his face between Aya's legs and did things with his mouth and tongue that left Aya completely unable to think at all. So much, so good.... As he put his hands on Yoji's head to keep it right there, he knew that he was making animal noises and couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't even care that he was mostly naked, with his pants pulled down to his ankles, covered by a fully dressed man, not while the pleasure kept spiraling ever upward, becoming ever more intense.

Oh, fuck, the brush of _teeth_.... Aya came and came and came. Finally. Finally! He saw stars and blacked out.

When he came to, he heard Yoji shout, "Holy shit!"

Aya had a dick. He had everything that was usually supposed to be there and the things he'd had that didn't belong to him weren't there anymore. He was back!

An incredible orgasm _and_ his body back? It didn't get better than this.

"This happened before," he said, half explaining, half musing aloud. "It might last this time, but I don't-- what?"

When he saw the nearly traumatized look on Yoji's face, he remembered that life didn't work that way. Yoji bit his slick bottom lip and looked away, saying nothing. Disgusted by the freak.

Of course.

Dawning realization quickly turned to fury. "You utter. Fucking. Bastard," Aya growled.

At least that brought Yoji's attention back. "Aya--"

"Not so sexy now, am I? Not quite your type?"

Now Yoji had the effrontery to be angry. "Damn it, Aya--"

Aya punched him, throwing his whole body into the blow, putting as much power behind it as he could from his awkward position. The movement felt familiar, practiced. It felt like coming home.

Coming home and finding his parents dead on the floor.

Yoji's head snapped back, smacking into the window. Aya yanked his pants back up and buttoned them as much as he could, now that they were too loose around the hips and too tight across the crotch, and then threw the door near him open and got out, this time unimpeded. He grabbed his coat, shirt, and boots-- he wasn't going to take the time to lace the boots up, if the female-sized boots would even fit over his male-sized feet-- and then turned, glaring icily at the man slumped against the door.

Yoji looked up at him, holding his nose, and said nothing. Blood trickled from between his fingers.

"Right," Aya said, and slammed the door shut.

He put his coat on, buttoning it in fast, hard movements, ignoring how tight it felt across his shoulders, then started walking along the shoulder, headed in the general direction of home. Yoji didn't call after him.

Aya walked at a swift pace, furious. He felt cheap and foolish when he should be feeling victorious. He was back to himself, and Yoji had to ruin it with his disgust and panic. Who the hell had Yoji been having sex with? Not Aya. Yoji had just seen some pretty woman, the latest in his string of bimbos.

As he walked for the next 30 minutes and his feet, insufficiently protected by only his socks, started to hurt more and more, his anger turned darker. He hurt in so many different ways, he wasn't sure where he was, and he had to walk some unknown distance home. Damned Yoji had to be an asshole and incite him to this.

Aya realized that he'd left his katana in the car, even though it had been under his boots. The cost of a dramatic exit. Stupid....

Yeah, he was stupid. Yoji was stupid too, but Aya realized that _he_ had to take the brunt of responsibility for this little incident.

Why was he so angry? He'd known-- hell, _everyone_ knew that Yoji was rabidly straight. He hadn't shown the slightest bit of interest before Aya's transformation, but afterwards he was all over him. That alone should have told him what would happen.

But then there had been Omi-- _I always liked you_ \--and Yoji had said he was easier to talk to as a woman, and maybe, just maybe Aya had clung to the possibility that Yoji's views on sexuality were as flexible as his own, that the change had provided an opportunity for his teammate to express feelings he wasn't able to give voice to before....

But no. Yoji wanted a woman. He only wanted Aya when Aya had breasts.

Aya felt a small, unwilling smile tugging at his lips. The thought of Kudou Yoji, head ladies' man of Tokyo, looking up from a job well done and finding a penis in his face-- well. There was, he supposed, something inherently humorous about the situation.

He couldn't blame Yoji. Yoji had made his motivations clear from the beginning. In fact, the only person Aya could really blame was himself.

And he hated that. Hated himself for being weak and foolish, for refusing to see what he already should have known.

There was no real rational thought process that had led to the kiss. It was a lot of little things. He had wanted Yoji to stop talking. He had wanted... something else. He had made a conscious decision to throw the last shreds of his dignity to the wind, because after the night at the bar, after the sparring incident, and especially after Schuldig, he knew he couldn't possibly sink lower in Yoji's eyes.

For once, Aya did something just because he wanted to. Because he ached for it.

Because he'd reached his breaking point, and because Yoji had pushed him there.

He sighed, and then stumbled as a sudden wave of vertigo passed over him and was just as quickly gone. Aya straightened, cast a wry downward glance at his body, and discovered with little surprise that he was a woman again.

At least he could put his shoes back on.

Thankful that he'd shut and fastened his coat a half hour ago, Aya knelt by the side of the road and started to lace up his boots. One good thing had come from the evening, at least; he now had some idea as to what caused the change, and what reversed it. Maybe his body had been demanding sex so intensely in an effort to change back?

But-- his hands stilled as a new unpleasant thought struck him-- what if his body was now female by default? What if he could only become male for a few minutes at a time?

Aya banished the thought with some difficulty. He finished tying his bootlaces and stood. It was a power, Manx had said, and power could be controlled. He would just have to learn to do so. He could do that, once he figured out how to train himself to make the change without needing... well.

And Yoji had been good for something else as well; for the first time in weeks, Aya's female body was no longer buzzing with the now-familiar persistent sexual ache. Instead he felt loose-limbed and relaxed, almost... happy? His moment of weakness seemed to have paid off.

Aya smiled, stretched, and continued the long walk home.

But he was swinging again, since the coat loosely fastened over the breasts did nothing to contain them. Uncomfortable, he snuck into a restaurant bathroom to put his shirt back on, which was tight enough to give him a bit of support. While there, he washed away the splashes of blood from the mission he found on his skin.

The woman in the mirror had a... glow to her, and she smiled knowingly back at him.

  


* * *

Yoji hadn't meant to stop at the bar. It was already late, and Omi and Ken would be worried. Especially Omi. Yoji's lips twisted. Especially about Aya.

But he couldn't face going back to the trailer just yet, especially without Aya. Omi was going to rip him a new one.

He wasn't too happy with that particular turn of events himself.

So instead he found himself pulling up to what he had begun to think of as Mikae's bar and staring at the neon sign for a long time before he sighed, turned off the engine, and got out.

The place was half-empty as usual. Mikae was behind the bar, as Yoji had expected. He wondered if she ever got the night off.

"Hey, playboy," she greeted him when he slid onto his usual stool. Then she caught sight of his expression. "Uh-oh."

Yoji propped his elbows on the bar and buried his face in his hands. The true magnitude of his latest fuck-up was just starting to hit him.

"Make it strong and keep it coming," he mumbled.

"What is it this time?" she asked as she put the glass down in front of him.

"The girl."

"It always is."

"You ever see _The Crying Game_?"

Mikae stared at him open-mouthed. "You're kidding."

"Unfortunately not."

"That's... wow. I can usually tell, you know? She's... very good."

"Yeah," Yoji said sourly. "Fantastic."

"So what happened? What did you do?"

What did he do? Probably one of the worst things possible. "I froze. I just-- yeah. I froze. And then she hit me."

"She _hit_ you?"

"She was pissed. Justifiably so."

"Well, if you didn't know," Mikae began.

"I did, though."

"You-- wait a minute. You knew?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I just... let myself forget, you know? Because I _wanted_ her to be... her. I sort of... put it out of my mind."

"And then you two got naked. And you saw her dick."

Yoji hesitated, wondering if he could tell her that it had gotten farther than that. But he couldn't, not without having to explain exactly where Aya had been keeping said appendage. So he just said, "Yeah."

"Because you let yourself forget."

"Yeah."

"You _are_ a jackass."

"I know."

"I'd hit you myself if I didn't want to keep my job." When she sounded annoyed and showed it in her face, she reminded Yoji of Aya, Aya as he might have been without the ice, Aya as he'd been slowly becoming since his change. Aya made up artfully punk... well, that wasn't too far off from Aya-who-is, especially during missions.

"Hell, meet me after your shift and you can beat me up all you want."

She gave him a dark look. "That's not some kind of euphemism, is it?"

"No," Yoji said miserably. "No, it's not."

Mikae sighed. "Here," she said, and filled a shot glass to the brim. "Have a drink."

She really was a good bartender, but he felt relieved when another customer at the end of the bar needed her attention and she left him. As much as he wanted company, he also didn't want it. He knew he'd fucked up and didn't need the look in her eyes and twist of her mouth confirming it. He settled down to some serious drinking.

Sometime and many drinks later, somebody sat down next to him and softly said, "You have a talent, Yoji. You're like a sadomasochist savant."

Schuldig. Fucking Schuldig. Or, in Aya's case, not fucking Schuldig, and may it stay that way. Which painfully underscored Yoji's situation.

Schuldig profaning _his_ bar. "Get the hell out of here," Yoji said as he put his hand on his watch, readying his wire.

"I think not. Besides, you should be happy I'm here. Otherwise, I could be out stalking Aya. Since he's out there all by himself the way you guys didn't want him to be."

Damn, damn, damn. Yoji held back a groan and stood to go, but Schuldig grabbed his arm. "Let go of me," Yoji snarled as he tried to get out of Schuldig's grip. He couldn't get loose.

"You're tipsy. You gonna go running after him in this condition? You won't be much good for anything. Hell, you'd probably just piss him off."

"Which is different from the usual how?"

Schuldig pushed him back down onto his seat and let go. When Yoji stood, Schuldig pushed him down again.

"Get the hell out of here," Yoji said, though he had to admit to himself that he couldn't defend Aya right now.

"Or what? You'll try to kill me in front of this lovely bartender? You may be in your work gear, but I know your reflexes and thinking aren't 100%. I'd kick your ass easily."

Mikae walked over. "What's your poison?" she asked Schuldig with a 'don't give me trouble or you're out' expression on her face.

"Your best beer. Thanks, honey."

Mikae gave Yoji a look that could have meant anything, then poured Schuldig's drink.

"Fumbling around, you're doing more damage than I could do trying, Kudou. I have to toast you." Schuldig lifted his glass in salute.

"What do you know about it?"

"Everything," Schuldig purred.

"At least I had him."

"Then tossed him away like he was trash. Smooth. If he'd turned into a man for me, I would have just kept playing. People would pay for what you got."

"But I'm not you."

"As if that's a good thing. He's half-forgiven you, though, since he decided that he should have known better than to expect anything different from a narrow-minded, flighty skirtchaser who was only in love with his breasts. Funny how a guy who's so hard on himself doesn't expect much from other people. Probably comes from bitter experience."

Yoji _could_ feel worse. He hadn't thought that possible.

Schuldig lit a cigarette and blew out a perfect smoke ring. "He changed back again."

Aya didn't even get the benefit of staying in his own body after what Yoji had done? It seemed vastly unfair.

"Yeah, it's unfair, but that's life. I wonder what's going on with him.... Cigarette?"

Why not? Yoji didn't think he'd fight well right now, and Schuldig didn't seem inclined to leave. Schuldig being here meant that he couldn't be hanging around Aya. And maybe Yoji could get him to theorize on what Aya's transformation meant, since the telepath worked with people who had various unnatural talents.

"That's the spirit," Schuldig said as Yoji took a cigarette from his pack.

"Get out of my head."

"I should. Not much going on in there."

Yoji leaned in close to let Schuldig give him a light. "Yet you're still here."

"So it's like a car crash. I may play it coy, but I have a fetish for other people's self-inflicted mayhem."

"What a surprise."

  


* * *

"Hey, Red!"

Aya turned around on the sidewalk and saw two motorcycles pull up to the curb near him. He immediately settled into a fighting stance. While his katana might have been in the car, he was a weapon without it. The riders pulled off their helmets to reveal themselves as two women. One of them stared at Aya with blatant and rude lascivious intent, while the other just looked in open appreciation.

"I've been calling you for five minutes!" the lascivious one said. Her short, spiked hair gave her a boyish but appealing appearance, while her tight leather set off a lean, athletic body.

"Not everybody recognizes 'Hey, pretty!' as calling them, Yukio," her lusher looking, curvier companion said.

"Your friend is right," Aya said.

"It applies!" Yukio said. "You are."

Oddly, her energy and forwardness didn't bother him at all, but he said, "I don't know if I should talk to strangers."

"Strangers? Not us. I'm Yukio. The shy one is Hirumi. What's your name?"

Why not? They seemed friendly. He shrugged. "I'm Aya."

"And now we're not strangers anymore. In fact, we're such good friends that we want to take you to meet up with the rest of our friends. It'll be a regular hen party. I got a nice bike, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"It's a good ride. So am I," Yukio purred, then batted her eyelashes.

Hirumi laughed and put her hand over her eyes, as if she couldn't bear the sight of her friend draped 'seductively' on the motorcycle. "That was awful!"

"I've heard worse," Aya said, and tried not to let Yukio remind him of Yoji. "Why would you invite me along?"

"You're gorgeous and you have a walk like a jungle cat."

"Yukio! Shameless!" Hirumi said with a smile.

"You knew what I was like when you took up with me. I figure that the pretty and the walk are reasons enough. You're even prettier when you smile, Aya. Do that again."

He shook his head but half-smiled anyway.

"Come on," Yukio said. "My friends don't bite unless you ask them to. I'll look after you."

This seemed quite ill-advised, but.... Why he wanted someone to look after him, he didn't know. Giving up responsibility to others ended badly. But he wanted this and wanted company. Yukio's energy and appreciation warmed him, and he could defend himself from her and her friends if necessary. Of course, the last time he'd done something he'd wanted to tonight it had ended with Yoji freaking out and him storming out of the car, but some good had come out of that, right? With these two women and whomever they brought him to he didn't have to be the Aya or Ran everybody expected. They had no expectations of him, and if things went badly he never had to see them again. Unlike with Yoji....

And it wasn't like he intended to have sex with them. He doubted that they'd appreciate having a dick suddenly in their faces any more than Yoji had.

"It'll be fun," Hirumi said.

What Yukio wanted from him was obvious, but Hirumi just seemed friendly. That decided him. "All right," Aya said. "But I reserve the right to leave at any time."

"Granted," Yukio answered, smiling. "Get on board."

Aya straddled the bike behind her and held onto her waist. His perch felt a bit precarious, which only added to the odd thrill running through his body. It made no sense. He did crazier and more dangerous things than this all the time.

Yukio started the motorcycle, and Aya bit his lip at the sudden vibration teasing his body. Grinning, Yukio looked back at him and said, "There are side benefits."

"I've ridden before." Didn't feel like this, though.

She shrugged and put her helmet on. They pulled away at speed, flying down the road, Hirumi keeping up. Hair and coat whipping in the hard wind, exhilarated, Aya kept his head down, lightly pressed one side of his face against the soft, worn leather of her jacket, and held on tightly.

After 20 minutes that passed far too quickly, they parked in front of a restaurant. When Yukio looked back at him, she said, "We can take another ride on the way back." She lightly brushed his tangled hair out of his eyes.

He followed them to a table already seating four women, who greeted them noisily and with great cheer. Aya stepped backward from it, then twitched forward as Yukio started to put her hand on his back. After giving him a thoughtful look, she said, "This is Aya. She's a good friend of mine. Likes motorcycles."

"Hi, Aya. How did you meet?" asked a girl with bright red streaks in her black hair.

"We met 30 minutes ago on the street," Aya answered.

"That sounds like Yukio."

"You're just jealous of my exquisite good taste," Yukio said, obviously refusing to be insulted. "Aya, this is Hatsue, Umeka, Ichiya, and Rei. Don't worry, they won't expect you to keep them all straight."

"As if anything could keep us straight," Hatsue of the red-streaked hair said.

"I flirt with straight," Hirumi said. "I like to have a dick now and then."

"So do I," Aya found himself saying. He couldn't resist.

"We're sorry, Yukio. You do have exquisite taste." Hatsue grinned. "Welcome to the party, Aya."

Hirumi sat on one side of him and Yukio on the other. Everyone sampled food off everyone else's plate as they talked. It was... cozy, if loud. While the women came in many shapes and sizes, they beamed with an infectious joy that made them all beautiful to him. Though still loud.

Hatsue was in a band, but most of them went to universities and had mundane jobs that they did nights like this to escape. For example, Hirumi was an assistant to a madman, Moyotoshi-sensei. From the way the others asked for 'Moyotoshi-sensei stories,' it looked like her tales of his lunatic behavior and demands were a highlight of the group's get-togethers.

"I know I've asked before, but why don't you quit?" Ichiya asked.

"Then how would I amuse you?" More seriously, Hirumi said, "You know why."

They all sighed. Aya shook his head. Then again, Weiß had their own obscure references that a stranger would find inscrutable, and not all of them related to assassination.

"What do you do for a living, Aya?" Yukio asked.

"I'm a florist."

"You're in some shape for a florist." Yukio's look at him appreciated his shape thoroughly.

"You never know what a floral emergency will demand of you."

Discussions ranged from group free-for-alls to small subgroups of the crowd sectioning off a bit for more intimate conversation. During one such sectioning off, after Yukio discussed her group with him a bit, Aya asked softly, "So everyone here has been everyone else's lover at some point?" It appalled him somewhat.

"We have friends who became lovers and lovers who successfully turned their relationship into friendship after the break-up. It's networking."

This was the closest to decadence he'd seen since he'd arrived. Somehow he'd expected different of biker lesbians, like a seedy bar and wild, public sex. Hatsue and Umeka kissed and held hands a great deal, but that didn't qualify as an obscene display of public affection, even if public displays made him personally uncomfortable. He knew it couldn't be like in Yoji's videos, but this seemed so sedate, just friendly friends and lovers out for a bit of innocent fun.

"How do you navigate the friends and lovers thing?" Aya asked. "It sounds like a way of asking for discord."

"I think the fact that we're all women helps."

Helped them, maybe. It did him little good. Aya resisted the urge to sigh.

Yukio took a look at his face and said, "It's about being considerate of other people's feelings and not too possessive. And if you see a problem coming, you try to nail it in its early stages--no matter how much you want to put it off and hope it goes away--before it blows up into something big. Is that more helpful?"

"I think so." He still didn't look forward to facing Yoji in the morning.

"Looks like dinner's winding down. You wanna come to our sleepover at Hirumi's place?"

"Sleepover?" A jumble of innocent and filthy images ran through his mind.

"You still have the option of leaving if you don't like it. Besides, you get to ride my bike again if you do."

"All right." Surely they wouldn't have fed him first if they'd intended to do him harm. And anyway, he was curious.

  


* * *

Damn, Schuldig could chatter. Yoji tuned it out as he drank, though once in a while some of it floated into his ears anyway. It could be that he was drunk and not paying full attention but he could swear that sometimes Schuldig launched into total non-sequiturs, seemingly unaware that his audience didn't know how he'd arrived at them. Since it became more pronounced the longer they drank together, Yoji figured that it wasn't his imagination and Schuldig was getting tipsy. Which was scary, because what would a drunken telepath do?

Yoji wanted him gone, but if Schuldig sat here annoying him, the telepath couldn't be harassing Aya. Yoji figured he owed Aya that much.

"--Aya's thing might be that... talent. Damn. What's it called? Nobody here knows...." Schuldig stabbed the air with his cigarette in triumph. "Biokinesis. Thanks, Nagi." Seeing Yoji's look, Schuldig asked, "What? Once I know someone really well, I can track and read 'em anywhere."

Yoji's stomach did a slow roll at that thought. How well did Schuldig know Weiß? Yoji asked, "What about biokinesis?"

"Oh, now you're listening?"

"If you're talking, you must want me to hear."

"I don't like repeating myself."

Yoji would play along. A little. "Please?"

"Well. Since you asked so nicely. Biokinesis is the ability to affect flesh with your mind. It's rare. People have different power levels in it, and it can range from self-healing to hormone control to physical transformation. Change your face, change your body, change your mass.... Some people can only affect themselves, while others can turn the people around them inside out if they wanted to."

"Aya could do all that?"

"Hard to say. He might only have the ability to shift gender." Schuldig smirked, then looked almost thoughtful. "It should have shown up years ago. These things either start on their own in childhood or adolescence or get triggered by trauma."

Yeah, if seeing his murdered parents lying on the floor, having his home explode around him, and watching his beloved sister get run down by a car in the space of a few minutes hadn't triggered the ability, what _would_ be trauma enough to do the trick?

"Exactly," Schuldig said.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Read my mind."

"Wasn't."

"Whatever."

Then Schuldig's perpetual smirk turned smirkier.

"What?" Yoji asked.

"Just thinking about poor Aya walking home, alone and miserable."

"That makes you smile?"

"Hell yeah."

Yoji didn't know why he felt suspicious, but.... "That's really what's going on?"

"Yeah. It's not like he was picked up by a group of biker dykes or something. You broke his spirit."

"Biker dykes?" Two words guaranteed to get his attention.

"Sure, Kudou. Aya's living out your fantasy right this minute instead of feeling like he'd been totally trashed by one of his teammates, the one he'd opened up most to. You try to believe that."

Yoji sighed.

  


* * *

As Aya held tightly to Yukio's waist and watched the world fly by in a blaze of neon and speed lines, he saw landmarks he knew. At least he wouldn't be heading blindly into the unknown. Aya tightened his grip on Yukio and the bike again as she took a turn at high velocity. Riding in a loose phalanx, the women seemed to be competing with each other for speed and daring, which made his current ride more interesting than the one to the restaurant. Funny how familiar and weirdly comforting it felt to be part of a group and yet not.

Yukio leaned back against him and wiggled a little, making him tingle and wish she wasn't wearing a blackout helmet so he could try to see her face.

They flew into a parking garage, and the steep descent made him slide up hard against her back. When they reached the bottom one of the women popped a wheelie, and Aya could feel from the way that Yukio's muscles were bunching that she wanted to do the same. He pulled on her jacket hard. She shook her head and kept both wheels on the ground, to his everlasting relief.

Once they all parked, helmets came off and some of the women whooped in exhilaration. "Sorry about that, Aya," Yukio said, looking rueful. "I got a little too excited."

"I'm happy to be alive."

"That's the whole point!"

Umeka patted his back with a touch so quick and light that it could have been a butterfly landing and flying off. "Sorry I did that too. I should have known the wild one would take it as challenge."

"Don't worry about it. My evening isn't complete without a near-death experience," Aya answered.

She grinned. "Wow, being a florist must be much more dangerous than I thought."

Hirumi had an astonishingly large, plush apartment. Maybe that explained her continued work with the madman. She noticed his gaze flitting around and said, "I have a roommate who's away for the weekend. The nutcase doesn't pay _this_ well."

While he had been impressed by the size of the apartment, he'd also been checking it out mission-style, noting objects that could be improvised into weapons if need be and the location of doors and windows. He didn't belong here.

Yukio closed a hand around his wrist, her fingers lightly and comfortingly stroking his skin, and led him to a couch, though he didn't sit when she did. She looked up at him, her face blank and slightly questioning. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Hatsue and Umeka going straight to one of the rooms and closing the door. How dare he feel manipulated when he'd known what he'd be heading into?

But Hirumi, Ichiya, and Rei simply walked into the kitchen, still sedate. Fear, confusion, and lust battled for possession of his unnatural body. Lust again, after what Yoji had done? He shouldn't be allowed out in public to be amongst normal people....

"No evil lesbian plots here, Aya," Yukio said with a smile.

He felt the late hour keenly now. "I should go home. I'm not sociable."

"I couldn't tell at dinner. Everybody loved you."

"This isn't me."

"Who else could it be?"

Aya ran his hand through his hair and found it to be hopelessly wind-tangled, snarling his fingers, so he put his hand down. "I mean it."

"I picked you up because you're beautiful and you were smiling, something I got the feeling that you don't do often."

"That's a lot of information to discern in a fast drive by."

"Hirumi let us loop back around again."

When had stalking him become a sport? Worse, he hadn't noticed them on either of their drives by until they'd shouted him down.

"Okay, now I've freaked you out," she said. "Can you sit down? My neck's hurting. You're disgustingly tall, you know."

"I'd just left a lover when you found me. I don't need anything else tonight."

"He must not have satisfied you too well if you were walking home alone in the middle of the night."

She didn't know the half of it.... Aya shook his head. "I might not even be around too long." At least he hoped he'd change back for good soon, or at least find a way to control his transformations. She just looked at him patiently. "You don't know me, and if you did you wouldn't want-- I'm babbling like an idiot."

"Adorably."

He sat down and rested his head against the back of the couch. "I'll shut up for a while."

She slid closer, sitting near enough now that he could feel the warmth of her body. "Rough day?"

"Rough two years."

"I don't have a single plot in me, you know."

"What about your lesbian recruitment program? Sweeping the streets for prospects?"

"That's not evil. That's noble community outreach."

"I'm sorry. I didn't come here a total innocent. I just don't know what I want, and I don't do this kind of thing. I was telling the truth about the lover, this not being me, and how I might not be around long." He closed his eyes. "You must think I'm insane."

"All noted, and no. Aya, I think you're just tired and cranky."

That sounded worse, but he could see some merit in the concept. He'd been tired for the last two years but kept running on obsession alone as a weapon of vengeance instead of a person. He could work one or more day jobs, assassinate people, visit his comatose sister in the hospital, and even get some sleep now and then, because he could rest when he was dead, a state he'd figured would arrive soon. But now.... Amazingly still alive, vengeance achieved, his sister returned to him, he could feel the cumulative fatigue catching up with him, rendering him all too human and mortal. And female now.

He could see himself explaining his behavior of the last two years to Weiß as a case of him being tired and cranky. It almost made him smile. "Why are you bothering with me?"

"Nobody's tried before?"

"Some have." He had to smile then. "They didn't get far."

"You didn't let them." She put her head on his shoulder, and he let it stay there. "I'm a romantic, and you're a pretty mystery with a nice smile. Probably a great ass too, though I couldn't see it with your coat in the way. Besides, I have that recruitment program, better living through lesbianism."

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"That makes you no different than 90% of the population. The other 10% don't actually know what they're doing either, but think they do. That 10% is often psychotic."

"That can't be right."

"You're so sure? Maybe you're younger than I thought."

He wanted to rebut that, but she was kissing him and tasted spicy, like ginger, and it felt so good to have her there, weight and warmth. Though he had her in his arms, he couldn't feel anything through his gloves, and that bothered him. The gloves had to come off....

Was he actually going to do this? "Why do you care about me? There have to be much easier lays out there."

When Yukio pulled back a little from him, her smile was somehow sweet and wicked at once. "Don't want 'em. I want you."

Yes.

  


* * *

"You know, Yoji," Schuldig said suddenly, "I love screwing with people's heads. It's a big thrill pulling their strings. But watching them do things of their own free will can be as much fun if the circumstances are right."

"Hunh?"

Schuldig laughed. "Never mind. You'll get it later."

"Crazy bastard," Yoji muttered.

"Sad bastard," Schuldig tossed back at him.

  


* * *

As Yukio kissed his neck and wiggled in his lap, Aya finally took off his gloves and felt a moment of shock again when looking at his hands. His hands, despite the smaller size and less squared look and the chipped red polish on his nails that he couldn't bear to take off because his sister had put it there. But he placed them on Yukio's back and stroked them along black leather that felt warm and almost alive, then moved one up to the back of her head to find that her short, spiky hair stood up almost on its own without any kind of sticky hair product and felt downy like feathers. Tiny, boyish, she weighed almost nothing.

"I like the way you smell. What is that?" she asked softly.

Sweat and bloody mayhem, with hints of lavatory soap. "Exercise."

"Mmm." She cupped his breasts and fingered the nipples through his shirt, making him gasp and buck up against her. "What did this lover do for you?"

Oh, shit. Yoji, the sex, the shift.... He could change again, and this time he didn't want to. At least not here. He had to be careful.... "I don't--"

"You don't have to tell me. I'm just a kinky little bitch." Her dark eyes made promises.

"He... stroked me, played with my breasts a bit, went down on me."

"He didn't...? Well." She rocked against him and toyed with his nipples further. "Hey, you wanna take this to a bedroom? The girls could finish in the kitchen at any time, and you don't strike me as a willing exhibitionist yet."

The bedroom would make it more real, but the mental image of the rest of the party coming out sated to find a new show waiting for them on the couch spurred him to say, "Yeah." Far from brilliant, but he could barely think. He noticed that his voice almost sounded as deep as it should.

Yukio slid off him backward and helped pull him off the couch, to his amusement. The bedroom did make it feel more real and set his pulse racing.

Her height put her mouth at the level of his breasts, and she nuzzled them with her face as she said, "Shh. It's okay." She stepped back and started to strip, revealing more smooth amber-gold skin, so much more appealing than his own pallor. "You know, the polite thing to do would be to take off your clothes too."

"Nobody informed me. Was there a manual handed out?"

"Consider me your wake-up call."

"Right." He took off his coat and tossed it to the side, hitting the chair perfectly.

"You can admire my body and strip at the same time."

"Thank you for the subtle hint." She watched him at least as hungrily as Yoji had while he unbuckled his shirt, though for her every strap undone led to a better view of his breasts instead of a bra.

She took in a deep, surprised breath. "Fuck, I could bounce a coin off your stomach."

His flush of pride gave way to confusion as she dropped to the floor and grabbed her jacket. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I have to test this out!"

Maybe she matched him in insanity after all. "You're not bouncing anything off me. Except maybe yourself."

"Sweet talker."

"You're the one who wants to throw things at me."

He really didn't expect her to tackle him. They landed on the bed with him underneath her, his shirt on but open down the front and her in bra, pants, and boots. He had his own pants and boots on as well. Lying entwined like this seemed counterproductive to getting naked, but her kisses and wiggling made complaining seem churlish.

"And the mighty lioness takes down the antelope," Yukio said as she nuzzled his neck.

"You're the tiniest lioness I've ever seen."

"Yet I bagged the big game. Damn, we're not getting undressed any faster this way." She climbed off of him.

"Yukio!" Did he just _whine_?

She sat on the side of the bed and looked over her shoulder at him. "Take your boots off. With their height and those laces, it'd be almost impossible to get your pants down while you're wearing those things."

He sighed and started to untie his boots, trying to ignore the now-familiar pulsing ache he felt in places he shouldn't even possess. Her boots came right off, and when she stood to remove her pants he took advantage of the moment to lightly stroke a line down her back, smiling as she shivered.

Finally they both achieved nakedness, and she climbed on top of him again, stroking, nuzzling, murmuring endearments about how beautiful and sweet he was like a small erotic hurricane. He reciprocated at a slower speed and groaned as she rubbed her breasts against his. She smelled and tasted and felt so good that she'd rendered him nearly frantic with lust and unsure whether he should let her know that as much as he enjoyed the caresses and kisses he didn't need any more foreplay at all. Even the slide of the sheets against his skin made him insane.

"You want to get to the main event, don't you?" she asked with a smile. "I can tell. You're quivering with impatience. Well, I can make it more eventful if you're open to try something."

"Show me."

Without getting entirely off him, she leaned down to the floor, pulled a suitcase out from under the bed, and removed a box from it. Then she slid off him to sit near his head. When Yukio opened the box to show him its contents, his eyes took in red leather, the straps of a harness, an O ring. Next to it lay a dildo, also red, stylized to look less like a cock and more like a modern sculpture. The narrow tip had a figurehead. Looking at it closely, he realized that it was sculpted to look like a cat, inspiring all kinds of Kitten in the House jokes that he would never, ever say aloud. The dildo felt firm yet also somewhat yielding as he touched it, like nothing he'd ever felt before. He jumped back a little as a vibration started to run through it.

He directed a questioning look at Yukio, who grinned again and said, "I get the feeling that you like to be challenged, and you said you like to have a dick once in a while."

What did he feel right now? Aside from incredulous. He felt fear, fascination, impatience.... He actually wanted this, wanted it now. The fear added spice.

Funny how just hours earlier he had vehemently rejected Yoji's suggestion that he buy a sex toy of his very own. But then, he supposed, using Yukio's required no monetary investment, no awkward questions of storage or the necessary privacy to use such a thing. This was a level of commitment he felt comfortable with.

And, most importantly, he wouldn't have to live with Yoji knowing about it.

He knew it said worrying things about him that he found the thought of being fucked by a rod of silicone wielded by a near stranger less frightening than being fucked by the live body part of a friend. Only he would prefer that the first time he was fucked it be by a woman.

Yukio's smile deepened. "You want it."

He realized that he was stroking it. "Yeah."

Watching her fit the dildo into the harness and then strap it all on left him nearly insane with wanting. Seeing her close her eyes and smile from the vibration made him bite his lip. Watching her stroke some lubricant onto the dildo left him impatient.

"Now, now," she said. "I want this to be good for you." Feeling utterly wanton, he opened his legs to give her better access, and she settled herself between them, lining herself up. "Damn, you're hot.

"Easy, easy," Yukio murmured, but being easy had gotten him into this. Panting, he concentrated on relaxing as he felt a slow pressure slide into him. Oh, it hurt, but in an oddly good way. Wrong, some part of him tried to say, this is wrong, but he didn't care. How could something wrong feel this good? Right now it was _right_, especially since the vibration left him sparkling from the inside.

Don't change, don't change.... He emphatically didn't want to right now, not with an unlikely object inside him in an impossible place giving him more pleasure than he knew how to handle. She stopped once she'd pushed all the way in, and he could feel the O ring and leather against him and the unbelievable fullness inside him. And the vibration.... His body had been screaming for something like this for weeks. Then she started to move slowly, in and out, in and out, rocking, as her fingertips also rubbed that spot that Yoji had manipulated earlier, with similarly explosive results. Aya was almost there....

"Harder," he gasped. "Please...." He writhed under her thrusts and her stroking and rubbing him _there_ and her mouth nuzzling the undersides of his breasts. She felt slick and hot against his fingers as he tried to give her some measure of the pleasure she gave him. When his fingers slid into her and his thumb rubbed the right area hard, she yelled and bucked into him harder. Overwhelmed, he came in a rush of sparks and color, feeling like liquid pleasure.

When he could think again, he realized that he hadn't changed back. Still female, he rested under Yukio, with her dildo still buzzing inside him, now starting to become uncomfortably too much to bear for his sensitized body. Did that mean that he could control the shifts somewhat?

When he shifted in response, she kissed his belly and slowly pulled out. He felt wonderful now, almost obscenely satisfied.

"Nice smile," she gasped.

He languidly stroked the soft leather of her harness. "That was... very nice."

She smacked his arm playfully. "Nice? Just nice?"

"It's good enough to describe my smile but not anything else? Besides, I said _very_ nice." What would be the right thing to say? "You were great." It was even true.

"Thank you." As she removed the harness, she said, "You know, you never took your shirt off all the way. It's cute."

He still had his arms and back covered, and some of the buckles of the gaping front brushed his thigh. "I had other things on my mind." He took it off now, then yawned as he settled in again.

"You can sleep. Sounds like you had a busy night."

"It would be rude." Not that he usually cared about being rude. Rudeness got things done.

"I'll take it as a compliment." She pulled the covers over them. "Good night, sleeping beauty."

Comfortable, he fell asleep instantly.

  


* * *

Some time ago Schuldig had closed his eyes, stopped talking, and gone into some kind of trance, breathing hard the whole way. He looked far too happy. As much as it creeped Yoji out, at least he didn't have to listen to him purr and insinuate.

Yoji stubbed his cigarette out and peered around the bar, trying to focus. His head was spinning, things were starting to blur... but he was pretty sure he wasn't seeing double yet.

Aloud, he mused, "I've never seen this place so crowded."

Schuldig smiled, catlike. "I know."

Yoji blinked. As he started to process this, Schuldig moved with blinding speed, sliding off his stool and backing Yoji up against the bar, and Yoji couldn't remember when he had stood up and turned away from the bar, hadn't even thought himself able to at this stage of drunkenness. Schuldig planted his hands on either side of Yoji, effectively boxing him in.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Yoji demanded. His hand automatically went to his watch. Like he could do anything before Schuldig stopped him.

"Oh, come on." Schuldig's voice was a dangerous, insinuating purr. "Don't tell me you don't understand it, what he sees in me."

Yoji managed to say, "Think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?" His mouth was suddenly dry. His body was remembering that yes, in fact, it had been extremely turned on not very long ago, and nothing had been done about it since.

Schuldig smirked. The expression boded ill and, God help him, it just turned him on even more. He really _was_ a sick puppy....

"Oh, but I forgot. You like your men to be women, don't you?"

And with that, Schuldig changed.

Yoji gaped at the woman in front of him, still with Schuldig's long, flyaway orange hair and slanted blue eyes and permanent smirk, but now distinctly female. A detached part of his brain observed that he now knew enough redheaded man-woman-things to last anyone a lifetime.

"You-- wha-- you," he stammered, as Schuldig-- She-Schuldig -- continued to grin at him from entirely too close. "You-- you're--"

"Finish your sentence," Schuldig suggested, trailing one long finger down Yoji's jawline. Yoji flinched away. "I'm not a mind reader, after all-- oh, wait."

Yoji glanced nervously over his shoulder, wondering if Mikae had noticed. If he was in fact drunk enough to be hallucinating, or if-- "You have Aya's power too!"

Schuldig snickered. His breath tickled Yoji's ear. "Not the brightest bulb on the tree, are you, Kudou?"

"Hey!" Yoji said indignantly. And besides.... "Trees don't have bulbs."

Schuldig moved lightning-fast, grabbing Yoji's hand and pressing it to the front of his tailored slacks before Yoji could resist. The feel of the hard, hot flesh under his palm made him gasp, and he tried to pull away. Schuldig tightened his grip.

"Little mind trick I like," Schuldig said, as Yoji struggled futilely to free his hand. "Not quite of the Jedi persuasion. Oh, I like that. Do that again."

Yoji glanced back at Mikae again, half-wanting her to intervene, half-hoping for her sake she'd stay away. She was busy at the other end of the bar, looking uncharacteristically harried.

"Oh, you know better than that," Schuldig murmured, pressing closer. "No one's going to bother us, Kudou. We're on our own."

Fuck, if only his head would stop spinning, if only Schuldig would stop standing so close.... "What are you gonna do?" he demanded, his voice unsteady to his own ears. "Rape me here, in front of everyone?"

Schuldig's sudden delighted grin made his stomach twist. "You know, I never thought of that? Now that's an idea with potential. I like the way you think."

Without warning he pressed a harsh, bruising kiss to Yoji's surprised lips, then drew back with that same damned smirk. And then, abruptly, the female façade dropped, leaving the original male Schuldig reaching once again for his beer.

"Some other time," he promised, sliding back onto his own bar stool. "I'm not in the mood."

Yoji closed his eyes again and let his head fall back. His breath came in short harsh pants. His lips burned. His dick was hard as a rock.

Obviously straight didn't mean as much as it used to.

Behind him, Mikae's voice said, "Get you anything else, hotshot?"

Yoji groaned.

"I think he's well taken care of," Schuldig said. Without looking Yoji grabbed Schuldig's mug and drained its contents in two long gulps. Schuldig let him.

"Then again," the telepath said, sounding amused, "I could be wrong."

Mikae hesitated. "Yoji--"

"Another one," he groaned, turning around finally, sitting down, and dropping his head down on his crossed forearms. "For the love of God, give me another drink."

"Hell no. Not if you're driving home tonight."

"I'll see him home," Schuldig cut in smoothly, resting a proprietary hand on Yoji's back. Yoji shuddered. "Don't worry."

"You American?"

"Hardly."

She sounded reluctant. "Whatever. Don't fucking sue."

"Promise," Schuldig said.

Another shot glass bumped against Yoji's forearm. He raised his head, tossed it back, and collapsed on the bar again.

"We're closing soon anyway," Mikae said. "Time to settle."

Yoji made feeble motions toward his wallet. Schuldig sighed loudly, and Yoji heard a faint rustling. "There. For both of us."

A pause. "This is too much. It's only--"

Yoji raised his head blearily, just in time to see Schuldig smile graciously-- Schuldig? he thought, gracious? --at Mikae. "Keep it. For your trouble."

"Not _my_ trouble," she muttered, but she pocketed the bills nevertheless. Schuldig was buying Yoji's bartender.

Yoji suddenly felt ill. He pushed himself away from the bar and nearly collapsed. Schuldig caught him. "Steady, Kudou. No puking on the outfit."

"Could only... improve it," he muttered through the sour taste in his mouth.

"And people wonder why I'm a misanthrope," Schuldig said. "Here."

Yoji clung to the proffered arm as Schuldig helped him out the door. Some cold, sober part of his mind was screaming that this was _Schuldig_ for God's sake-- psychopath, mortal enemy, Aya's demented stalker. The rest of his mind was too alcohol-soaked to care.

As Schuldig deposited him into a waiting cab, however, he had enough presence of mind to ask, "Why aren't you killing me?"

Schuldig's eyes widened. "_Scheiße_. I knew I forgot something."

Yoji rolled his eyes, and Schuldig grinned. "You Weiß boys are always so eager to go out in a blaze of glory. I don't want you dead, Yoji." He leaned in close, once again invading Yoji's personal space. "You torture yourself so beautifully. I wouldn't destroy such a work of art."

He kissed Yoji again, just as hard and demanding as the first time. Yoji closed his eyes and considered vomiting, then rejected the idea. He wasn't exactly defenseless at the moment, but he was pretty darn close.

In his head, Schuldig's wry voice said, ~ Good choice. ~

Then the taxi door slammed shut and they were speeding through the Tokyo streets, back to the trailer, and only then did Yoji think to worry that Schuldig knew where Weiß was holed up. He sighed and closed his eyes again, ignoring the contemptuous glances the cab driver shot him.

So that was why.

Aya....

His lips still burned.

  


* * *

Aya's eyes flew open. Something. Something had brought him awake... in an unfamiliar room, with someone in bed with him. That someone had an arm comfortably draped over his waist. He remembered Yukio and smiled. Then he looked at the clock. Shit. Shit!

Yukio's grip on his arm tightened as he started to move. "What are you doing? You only slept for... an hour. Have mercy."

Guilt stung him. "I have to go. I have a job to wake up for and roommates I should have called hours ago to tell them I was still alive." He really didn't want them to think he was Schuldig's helpless sex slave and needed a rescue. They might be worried. But he didn't want to go. But he should. "Yukio--"

"I'm glad you let somebody worry about you." She turned on the light and blinked sleepily. "If you have to go, you have to go. Oh, wait." She rummaged across the top of the night table until she found a pen. "C'mere." Yukio wrote a phone number along the inside of his wrist in blue ink. It scratched and tickled at the same time. "My cell phone. You're a friend and lover now, Aya. Remember that."

He couldn't help smiling. Couldn't help melting as she kissed him either. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt.... No.

"Almost had you," Yukio said with a laugh.

"Yukio, if I didn't have prior responsibilities, I would stay."

"Get going before you make me blush. That way I won't have to kill you."

He almost didn't flinch at that.

  


* * *

"Will you calm down, Omi?" Ken asked, yawning.

"It's been hours," Omi said. If he kept on this way, Ken might witness a case of spontaneous combustion. Omi paced. He tried to work on the computer but couldn't summon the concentration necessary. He tried to read. He paced....

He kept Ken awake.

Ken really couldn't think of anything to say that might help him. Yoji and Aya had either run into trouble in some unknown part of the city or Yoji had holed them up in a hotel room to make Aya his transgendered love slave... and fuck you very much, Yoji, for putting that thought in his head. Neither prospect would cheer Omi. Ken wished he could erase the last one himself.

Omi jumped as the door started to open. A very unsteady Yoji stumbled in, very drunk and very much alone. No Aya. This would be bad.

Sure enough, Omi was all over Yoji. "Yoji! What happened? Where's Aya?"

Yoji's eyes were unnaturally bright. He dismissed the subject of Aya's well-being with an airy wave of his hand. "She can take care of herself."

"_He_," Omi said firmly.

Yoji leered. "Oh, no, trust me. She's a she."

Ken's eyes widened as that damned image flitted through his head again. He heard Omi breathe, "What did you do?"

"What she wanted me to do," Yoji pronounced, looking insufferably smug. "What she begged me to do."

Ken covered his face with his hands.

"You-- you--" Omi sounded outraged.

Ken peeked nervously between his fingers, wary of the tension in the air. Shit, Yoji was going to do what Yoji did whenever he didn't feel steady: shoot his mouth off. "Yeah, Dad, I did. Got a problem with it?"

Omi stared and said nothing. All of the energy and motion he'd showed minutes earlier seemed to compress in his small body. His face twisted, and then he punched Yoji hard in the stomach, crumpling him to the floor.

"Omi!" Ken yelped, leaping forward. "Shit!"

Omi hauled Yoji up by his collar and shouted, "How could you? How could you just-- you don't even _like_ him!"

Yoji was too drunk to fight back. In fact, he was so drunk that it looked like blinking stupidly at Omi in shock was about all he could manage.

As Omi kept yelling and Yoji kept looking bemused, Ken circled the two at a safe distance, trying to figure out the best direction to intervene in to break this up. Omi usually looked cute, but he could be deadly. "Damn it," he began.

"What the fuck is going on?" Aya asked from the doorway.

Omi and Yoji stared at him, and Ken took advantage of their distraction to pull Omi's hands off of Yoji. Yoji was also almost too drunk to kneel on his own; he sagged before he saved himself from hitting the floor face-first. In contrast to the rest of Weiß, Aya looked cool and controlled, if a bit disheveled.

Aya, who'd been fucked by Yoji, if you could believe Yoji. Ken didn't know if he did, but he didn't know if he didn't either. He felt shocked that he didn't feel totally shocked, but after seeing Aya with breasts that first time, he'd lost some of his ability to be shocked by anything Aya could do. Besides, Yoji had all but declared his intentions more than once.

Still, after their conversation earlier, he felt more disappointed in Yoji than he had a right to be.

"Um," Ken said. "They're fighting over your virtue. Again."

Aya opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Sounding annoyed and sad, he said, "This is not my life."

"Aya--" Omi started.

"Shut up." He knelt beside the half-conscious Yoji and tipped his head back, sniffing his breath. "He's drunk."

Ken sighed. "That's the general consensus, yes."

Aya stood, pulling Yoji up with him. "I'm putting him to bed. You two stay out here."

"Where the hell were you?" Omi asked.

Aya looked taken aback by Omi's tone. "I needed to clear my head."

Omi calmed a little, but still sounded hard when he said, "Please call next time."

Aya nodded, then helped Yoji stumble away. His expression twisting, Omi watched them go.

Ken asked, "Omi, what the hell got into you?"

Omi sniffed. He looked pink-faced and miserable, and Ken realized with a slight shock that despite what he did for a living, in every way that mattered he was still just a kid.

"He was supposed to protect Aya," Omi whispered. "He took advantage of him."

Ken smiled wryly. "This is Aya we're talking about, right? You think Yoji could do anything Aya didn't want him to?" He ruffled Omi's hair. "Here, sit down," he said, guiding his young teammate to the kitchen table. "I'll make you some tea."

Omi stared blankly into space as Ken bustled around the small kitchen area, pulling out the teakettle and two clean mugs, setting the water to boil. After a while he said, almost too low for Ken to hear, "He's never going to want me, is he?"

Ken hesitated. He really didn't want to get involved in whatever bizarre triangle his teammates seemed to have formed. But Omi looked so miserable.

"I don't know," he said finally. "I honestly can't speak for Aya. I don't think anyone can. No one knows him well enough. Hell, I'm not sure if Aya knows himself."

"Yoji does," Omi muttered.

"Yeah?" Ken found himself glancing towards the sleeping area in the back of the trailer, wondering just what they were doing back there-- he pushed the thought away, shaking his head. "I wouldn't be too sure. Look, Omi, I can't be sure, but I think Aya loves you as much as he can love anyone."

"Maybe that's not enough anymore," Omi said softly.

They all knew how badly life could suck and how helpless they could be in the face of that, so Ken didn't tell Omi that. "Once the terrible twosome settles down back there, let's get some sleep, huh? Life usually seems better after some good sleep."

  


* * *

"I'm the one who needs a chaperone? I can't even leave you alone for a few hours without you getting yourself in trouble," Aya said, grimacing under Yoji's leaning weight across his shoulders and against his side as he dragged Yoji forward more than helped him walk. "Nothing to say? That's rare." Aya tossed Yoji none too gently into his bunk, then took his sunglasses and boots off for him. He refused to wrestle the coat off.

At least Aya didn't feel any lust at the moment. Perhaps having sex twice and Yoji currently being a disgusting drunk helped.

Aya remembered Yukio's words about not letting a situation fester, so he said, "I'm still upset, but I understand what happened tonight. I don't hold it against you." Yoji had been honest about the source of his interest, and Aya had been the one to make it something it hadn't been.

Yoji looked miserable, but that could be the drunkenness. "I didn't mean to upset you like that. It was just a... shock, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But could you try not to bait Omi?" The look on Omi's face and ugly edge in his voice had been worrying.

Yoji had passed out. Wonderful. Aya would have to wait until tomorrow to see how things would be between them now. It might have been better to get it out of the way tonight, when Aya still felt so good-natured, but nothing could be done.


	5. Chapter 5

Aya woke slowly, feeling oddly content, his body well-worn and complacent. It felt like he was recovering from a particularly punishing workout. But he hadn't been training the day before....

He stretched and rolled over, and was rewarded with twinges in places that definitely didn't come from training.

Oh.

Aya buried his face in his pillow and bit his lip, holding back the silly little smile that threatened to appear. So that was it; he'd had sex. Twice, if he counted Yoji, and--

Yoji. Aya's smile faded.

He still didn't know what the fight with Omi had been about; Yoji hadn't exactly been lucid, certainly not enough to explain himself. But he had the uncomfortable feeling that he wouldn't like it when he found out.

Aya sighed and sat up, hiding another smile. So there were problems with Yoji. He'd work them out. Yukio had given him some good advice before she'd fucked him.

He slid out of bed, thinking with amusement that in sex, as in many other, less pleasant things, it never quite rained but it poured.

Yoji was still passed out, curled up in his bunk with his pillow clutched over his head in a death grip. Aya felt a twinge of sympathy. The memory of his own hellish hangover wasn't too far distant.

The others were already gone. Aya padded silently to the bathroom, taking care not to wake his sleeping teammate, reflecting that not too long ago he would have forcibly kicked Yoji out of bed, hangover be damned. Maybe he really was growing as a person. But if he wasn't quite Aya and he couldn't be Ran, then where did that leave him?

He dismissed the thought as he looked at the phone number scrawled in blue along his arm. He had a new friend, one who didn't know him as either Aya or Ran, one who placed precious few demands on him. And he'd had sex. Twice.

He walked back out to get a piece of paper to write the number down on to save it, then went back into the bathroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower. The water washed only the surface remnants of last night from his body. The internal touches lasted.

At least for today, the rest could work itself out. Today he couldn't be bothered.

  


* * *

"I'll be working outside with you today, Ken, since Yoji's unconscious and far too drunk to be useful," Aya said. "What story did you give out about me?" He didn't look forward to facing the schoolgirls.

Ken looked uncomfortable. "That you were on a much-needed vacation."

'Much-needed'? Aya could imagine what the others had said to the customers that Ken wasn't telling him. "If anyone asks, he needed more time than he expected, and I'm a cousin who decided to fill in for him. That way the resemblance and the same name won't be so odd." Not that his actual family had been any use when he'd needed them most desperately.

"Why would Cousin Aya do this?"

Aya nearly smiled. "For three attractive young men who need help. What girl could resist? At least if I can judge by our clientele." When Ken's uncomfortable look took on a deeper shade of discomfort, Aya asked, "What?"

"Nothing."

"I'll get it out of you sooner or later."

"Uh."

Aya turned on his death glare. "Don't make me wonder. Whatever I imagine will be far worse than the truth."

"Yoji told us about... you and him last night."

Oh. He'd been wrong. "I'll kill him." Yoji talking about what they'd done as if Aya had been another bimbo he could notch on his bedpost.... Now he understood the odd looks Ken and Omi had been giving him.

"He didn't mean to, I'm sure. He was really drunk!"

And Omi.... "That fight with Omi happened after Yoji told the both of you, didn't it?"

"Yeah."

Omi must be devastated. Aya would have to have a talk with him when he returned from school. Damn.

Aya hated talking. But it had to be done. After all the people and forces that had tried to destroy them, it would be stupid if Weiß fell to pieces because Aya had grown breasts and a sex drive.

"He just let us know that you'd had sex. He didn't go into detail."

"All right, I will."

Ken almost turned green. "You really don't have to."

"Oh no, I want to. Last night I turned back into a man."

"That's great!"

"Right after Yoji made me come. He freaked out."

Ken had a familiar 'this is not my life' look on his face. "That's... not good."

"I stormed away, while he apparently got drunk. So he's not such a stud after all."

"I could have done without knowing all of this.... But now you're a woman again. What happened?" He sounded concerned.

"I don't know." And then he was picked up by lesbian bikers, but Ken didn't need to know that part.

"You might change again."

"I hope. In the meantime, I'm going to eat breakfast and then go out there as my own cousin."

"This should be fun."

"I'm sure."

  


* * *

The schoolgirls didn't react quite as he expected. They hated him. _Hated_ him. His skin should have burned off from the heat and intensity of their angry, jealous stares. It amused and annoyed him simultaneously. Neither emotion boded well for Yoji, as Aya's mood set him to thinking of vengeance all morning.

On his break, Aya walked into the kitchen, picked up a pot and metal spoon, and went back to check on Yoji. Yoji looked deeply unconscious as he sprawled in his bunk. That wouldn't last.

Aya banged the spoon repeatedly on the pot, smiling at the unholy racket and Yoji's vertical jump and near tumble off the bunk.

Yoji groaned and writhed, then looked up at Aya bleary-eyed and shouted, "What the hell was that for?" He winced at the sound of his own voice. Softer, he said, "I think I remember you saying that you understood. That happened, right?"

"Yes, but that was before I found out that you bragged about our encounter to Ken and Omi, as if I were another bimbo in your string of conquests. You bragged about it to _Omi_, you asshole."

"He goaded me into it!"

"Really?" Aya moved the spoon closer to the pot.

"You cruel bastard," Yoji moaned.

"Do you have any idea what kind of looks I was getting from them? I'm going to have to _talk_ to Omi."

"Oh, the torture. No, don't bang anything again!"

"I'm telling them how it ended. I already told Ken. Since you already dragged me into the muck, I'm taking you down with me."

"Sounds like fun. Don't hit the pot!"

Aya felt tired suddenly. "Why did you even say anything about it? I'd imagine you'd want last night to stay a secret for your own reasons. Did Omi 'goading' you put your mouth on autopilot and make it slip out?"

Yoji looked truly piteous. "Aya, I'm hungover. I'm not at my best."

Aya refused to relent, especially since Yoji had done this to himself in an effort to drown his horror in alcohol. "Oh. You want me to come back after you've rehearsed your answer."

"Look, I'm sorry. I know I made some bad judgment calls."

Of which sex with Aya had been one. "Yeah." Bad judgment calls had been going around.

He knew better now. He'd been right before. Talking and getting involved led to trouble. Once he straightened things out with Omi as much as possible, he'd keep his mouth shut, his body under control, and his problems to himself, working them out on his own. They could think what they liked of him, call him a cold asshole, whatever. At least he'd been a cold asshole who'd possessed some dignity before.

"You slept the morning away," Aya said. "It's time to get out there and actually do your job."

"Aya, it's not so bad. Everything's going to be fine."

"Sure, Yoji."

  


* * *

Yoji didn't understand what had happened. One moment Aya had been annoying but human, and then he'd gone cold again. Good going, Kudou.

He needed something to distract the ice away. Then he remembered everything with Schuldig last night, which might not have been the distraction material he wanted but made him sober right up. "When Omi gets home, we have to call a meeting."

"If it's something important, you should tell me and Ken now."

"Schuldig knows where we're living."

Aya didn't look surprised. When he noticed Yoji's expression of incredulity, he said, "He's a telepath. Besides, he was able to find me easily."

Shit. "He said he can easily locate people he knows well."

That soured Aya's expression. "I see."

Something else. Something about abilities.... "It's gone. Fuck!"

"What?"

"Schuldig told me what you might be doing, but he must have taken it out of my head. I know I heard it, but I can't remember a thing about it. That bastard!"

"I'm not surprised."

When Aya almost started to smile, Yoji asked, "What?"

"It sounds like a long conversation."

"While he was with me, he couldn't be stalking you."

"Thank you. But, Yoji, it sounds like he might be fixating on you too."

"Hell, yeah, he might--" Oh, no.

"I don't think it's safe for you to go out anywhere alone or alone with me. It's not that you need a chaperone, but he is dangerous. It's something that would have to be done for any of us who caught his perverted interest. We better let Ken and Omi know."

"You're enjoying this."

"Maybe." At least that malice had put a light in his eyes, melting the ice. "Did he make overtures to you too?"

Yoji remembered being pressed hard against the bar and the feel of Schuldig's lips.... "No!"

"Yes. I feel a little less special now." But obviously very amused. Aya frowned. "I hope you didn't drive home that drunk."

"No, I took a cab." A cab Schuldig had called and paid for, but Yoji had no intentions of admitting that.

"My katana is still in the car."

"So's your bra."

Aya glared. Yoji grinned.

"Anyone could have broken into the car--"

"You didn't remember it until just now. Must have been some night." Idiot! "Uhm."

But was that a blush? "We have to go get it. My katana and your car."

"Alone?" He knew he shouldn't needle Aya, but it was so much fun.

"Ken has to stay with the shop. How much trouble could we possibly-- All right, I'm not even going to finish that."

  


* * *

Being in an enclosed space with Aya was torture. While they'd been arguing and talking earlier, Yoji could just pretend that nothing had changed, but while sitting together this closely in Aya's car he kept remembering the last time they'd been in a car together, the way Aya had tasted and moaned and writhed, and that he'd made Aya come. At which point Aya had turned into a man again and everything had gone to hell, but before that Yoji had been very happy with the turn of events.

He felt possessive in a way Aya would want to kick his ass for if he knew.

He smiled at the chipped dark red polish he saw on Aya's nails as those graceful hands rested on the steering wheel. Aya's bare neck and wrists drew his attention and begged him for kisses, and he was usually too gentlemanly to deny such lovely body parts what they wanted. She had a bit of a glow about her today that he knew he'd contributed to, and a large part of him wanted to do it again. Several times. Aya was a beautiful, responsive woman.

Except when he was a pissed off man.

Yoji wanted her badly but would he be able to deal with _him_? She may have been a responsive beauty who was supposedly ready to go at any time, but he was a prickly, moody, cold asshole most of the time, though he'd been better lately. Yoji could just imagine the deep freeze he'd get if he got involved with Aya even casually, then dumped him. Did he want to bother?

Of course, all of that assumed that Aya would let him bother after last night's events.

"If someone broke into your car, I'm going to be very angry," Aya said.

"_You'll_ be angry?"

"Cars can be replaced."

"Your ignorance is just too much for me to deal with. I'm not even going to try."

"It's a moot point, since it seems that no one molested the car overnight." Aya paused. "Whatever you're about to say, don't say it."

"But you make such a great straight man. Wait, that didn't come out right."

Aya parked his car near Yoji's. "If you only knew...."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

Aya just said nothing and got out of the car. Sadistic bastard.

Aya retrieved his katana from the car so skillfully that no passers-by would have realized that he'd picked up a weapon that long and blatantly intimidating. He was in the car, and then the katana was under his long coat. Yoji far preferred the wire hidden in his watch specifically for the way he could stealthily carry it anywhere. Aya also hid his bra somewhere in the coat, while Yoji tried and failed to keep a straight face.

Aya cast him a frosty look, then went back to his car and drove away with more emphasis than he needed to. Yoji smirked and murmured, "I'm so misunderstood." But at least driving home alone removed the possibility of temptation.

  


* * *

After Omi came home and the shop was closed up for the night, Omi called Manx so she too could hear his news about Schuldig. Aya didn't see the point in getting upset, since he'd already resigned himself to the idea that if the telepath wanted to know where he was, he would. Omi, Ken, and Manx didn't take it as well.

"You waited this long to tell us?" Ken asked Yoji.

"I wasn't conscious for most of the day."

Omi shook his head. "We'll have to move again." Via video connection, Manx concurred.

Of course. Aya should have known that they wouldn't be able to stay in Tokyo again for long. After all, a major reason for not contacting Aya-chan had been that he never knew when they'd have to leave in a hurry. Giving her the hope of having a brother who could be in her life full-time would have been cruel.

Of course, she had taken the matter out of his hands.

"Hey, Aya, what's your problem?" Yoji asked.

"His sister," Omi said. "Remember?"

Aya felt annoyed with himself that he'd let his upset show. "Yes." Aya-chan... and Yukio. He had to let them know without giving too much away.

Then again, Yukio might not be a problem. He could have been a single night's amusement to her. The phone number might not even be genuine. No promises had been exchanged on either side.

This was a ridiculous attachment to have anyway.

He would try the number later.

"I'll get back to you on where you should set up now," Manx said. "It shouldn't be long. You'll have to leave soon."

"Thanks, Manx," Omi answered.

As soon as the connection turned off, Aya put his leather jacket on and walked to the door. Omi said, "Aya, I understand about your sister, but you shouldn't be going out alone."

At least Omi hadn't told him he couldn't leave at all, not that Aya would have listened. "I was fine last night."

"Because I kept Schuldig distracted," Yoji said, no doubt to remind the team of his supposed heroism. Never mind that it seemed he'd been drinking with the enemy, hardly a difficult task, to do so.

"How long did you sacrifice yourself for, Yoji?" Ken asked, beaming with patently fake innocence.

"A long time."

"What kind of things did you have to do for him?"

"Hey!"

Aya didn't have the time for this. "She'll worry if I show up with an entourage."

"She'll worry anyway when you tell her we have to leave," ever so reasonable Omi replied.

That reasonability could drive Aya to homicide. Omi's ability to talk and wait him out didn't make him happier either. Surrendering to the inevitable, he said, "I won't go alone, but I can't be paired with Yoji. Schuldig's fixated on him too."

"You don't have to smile so sweetly about that," Yoji muttered.

"I don't smile."

"That wasn't a sweet smile," Ken said. "That was a smug, wicked, evil smile."

"You're all insane."

"I'll go along with you," Omi said.

Even better. Even considering all the bad nights he'd had in the past few years, especially lately, this night was heading to the top of the list. "Don't you have to be here for when Manx calls back?"

"Ken and Yoji can take it."

"All right." It would be a nice change to win some of the time.

  


* * *

Omi wondered if Aya intended to drive the whole way in silence. Better yet, worried silence, which made it feel even more awkward to Omi.

Aya didn't seem different than he had yesterday, before Yoji had gotten all the way. Omi felt that his perceptions of Aya should have taken a radical shift, but Aya just seemed like his female self.

"Are you going to stare at me the whole way there?" Aya asked.

"Are you going to keep quiet the whole way there?"

"I should--" Aya continued to stare out the front windshield. "Omi, I don't love you that way. I don't love anyone that way."

That was... direct, but Aya could be stunningly and even rudely direct at times. No opening pleasantries.

"Yoji--"

"I'm attracted to him, more so since I've changed. I don't love him." Aya took a deep breath. "I haven't felt anything like that kind of love in years. I don't know if I can anymore."

That was awful. Aya couldn't really think that. "Aya, the last few years have been hard on you. You were an assassin with a day job who also spent hours with his ill sister."

"The way you're an assassin who's a student and a florist too?"

"That's different."

"It always is."

"You'd focused yourself completely on vengeance and didn't give yourself the time or space for love. Things are different now."

"Yes, and I'm a bit different too, but that's no guarantee of anything."

"You're too hard on yourself. You'll feel again."

"I don't want to use you as a test case on that."

Oh. Part of Omi screamed, 'Use me!' but the rest of him knew that he would hate it if they became friends who had sex while Aya never grew to love him as he loved Aya and wanted to be loved himself. It would lead to resentment, self-doubt, and anger. The coldly practical part of him understood that very well and recognized that Aya refused him out of a different kind of love for him. But oh how it hurt.

Still, Omi had to ask, "What about Yoji?"

"He doesn't want love from me, just sex. There's liking on both sides... some of the time... but I don't think he'd know what to do with me if I did love him."

So Aya didn't love Yoji either; he just figured that he couldn't hurt Yoji through sex with him. That made things slightly better.

Thinking about how fundamentally lonely and isolated Aya must feel made it all worse again.

"Besides, last night was hardly the culmination of anyone's fantasy," Aya said, his lips twisting slightly. "I changed back to my real self during it, and Yoji was... repulsed by it. No deep connection was formed."

Omi felt simultaneously glad that they hadn't made a love connection and deeply angry that Yoji had reacted that way to prevent it. "At what point did you change back?"

Aya actually colored a little. "You don't have to know."

"I'll wonder anyway if you don't tell me."

Aya sighed. "After he went down on me and brought me to climax."

Omi liked to think that he wasn't a cruel or evil person, but the mental image of Yoji being _there_ and congratulating himself on a job well done only to suddenly find a dick near his face made him want to cackle dementedly. Instead, Omi was an adult about it and simply asked, "So sex triggers the change?" But not a permanent change, obviously.

"Not always."

"Do you know where Aya-chan is right now?" Omi asked. When Aya's eyes flickered and he sighed, Omi took out his cell phone. Aya really needed a keeper. And he didn't carry a cell phone because he didn't want people to be able to reach him when he walked off. After Momoe-san answered at Kitten in the House, Omi said, "It's Omi. Is Aya there?"

"Is there trouble?" Momoe-san asked. Omi had always suspected that she knew far more about what Weiß did than she let on and that she was probably a Kritiker member herself.

"None aimed at her."

"I see. Yes, she's here."

"Is Sakura there?"

Aya cocked an eyebrow at him.

"No, not now," she said.

"Thanks, Momoe-san. We'll be over to see Aya soon."

"Oh, good. I miss you."

"'Bye!" Omi put the phone away, grinning.

"You're very good," Aya said, Aya-smiling a little.

"Yep. You wouldn't have thought to ask." Omi shook his head. "You and Sakura...."

"She deserves better," Aya left his '_you_ deserve better than me' unspoken, though it hung between them, "but I can't make her understand that. She saw me kill, and that didn't put her off."

"So you think she'd convert to lesbianism if she saw you now?"

"I'm glad I won't have to take that chance."

Omi gave him a sidelong glance, and then asked, "'Not always'?"

"Hmm?"

"Not always, you said. About sex being the trigger."

"Well." Aya was definitely coloring again. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "It's certainly not the _only_ trigger."

"That's not what you said," Omi pointed out. "You said--"

"I'd rather not discuss it," Aya interrupted. His face was bright red now, a rare enough occasion that Omi wanted to take a photograph. What if no one believed him?

"You're blushing," he marveled.

"No, I'm not."

"You are! You--"

Aya swerved to the side of the road with considerably less grace than usual. "We're here," he announced firmly.

Omi smiled to himself and waited.

In a low, steely voice, Aya said, "You will not tell the others." He didn't have to add, 'or else.' The _or else_ was implied, and probably very, very painful.

Not tell the others. Not tell Yoji, because Yoji didn't know.

Omi grinned. "Our secret!" he chirped.

Aya sighed, sounding long-suffering and put-upon.

For all that Omi was careful to think of Aya as 'he' and 'him,' there was a she and her there too, ever more so as time in that body wore on, and he liked the woman Aya was. She talked more and took more risks than Aya did, and... she was nicer. Omi hoped that they didn't lose her altogether when Aya changed back.

Aya-chan was waiting patiently outside the shop. Omi said hi as he got out of the car and walked past her to go inside to talk to Momoe-san. Aya could use some time alone with his sister.

  


* * *

"You're still my sister," she said with a small smile.

"I'm afraid so." He felt ashamed. "I should have contacted you again, but everything's been crazier than usual."

"It's okay. Something's wrong now, isn't it?"

"We have to leave."

"Again? You just got here!"

"You've been keeping tabs on us?" It made him feel warm even as it made him worry about her.

"How do you think I knew where to find you? Ran, you were gone for months. You've only been here for a few weeks...."

"I know. It's not fair."

"Are you in danger?"

"Is there a time when we're not?" When her lips trembled, he quickly said, "I'm sorry, Aya, I was just being flippant."

"No, you weren't. This is where your routine about staying away from me for my own good started, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

She hugged him, holding on tightly. "You'll call, right? Especially when you become my brother again. I really want to know."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I'll call." She smelled like flowers, dirt, perfumed soap, and a little sweat, utterly unlike the stale, sour hospital scents he remembered on her skin.

"How much trouble are you in? Omi's been watching you through the window the whole time."

"He's overreacting." To throw her off the scent, he added, "He's also interested in me," hoping that the tidbit would be too juicy for her to skip over.

"That's there too, but it's not all of it. What?"

"I'm very proud of you."

"That I'm paranoid?"

"You're aware. You're safer that way," he answered. But she was uncomfortable now. "I'm sorry, Aya. Do you want to go back inside?"

"Yes. You have to go, don't you?"

"Not really. Not yet."

"You're twitching and checking the street, Ran. You're worried that you're making me a target, aren't you?"

"I hate this."

"I know. I do too." She kissed him. "I have to go back to work."

His heart twisted. "All right." He gave her one final hug and stared forlornly at her back as she went into the shop.

Omi walked out to him. "What happened?"

"She saw that we're assassins." Aya shook his head. "Coming back to Tokyo was a mistake. Now I just know I was right not to contact her. It's even possible that I might still be myself if we hadn't come here."

"You don't know that."

"I don't know anything." Aya ran his hand through his hair. "Can I borrow your cell phone? I need to make a call. A private call."

"I don't want us to get separated--"

Enough. "I can sit in the car, and you can watch me through the window from inside Kitten in the House. Just like you did while I was talking to my sister."

Omi paled, then said, "All right." He handed his phone over and went back inside, casting upset glances over his shoulder now and then.

Aya took a deep breath that failed to calm him, then sat in the Porsche's driver seat and closed the door. This might be a mistake. It would look desperate to call her the next day. It might be a deliberately wrong number.

Oh, fuck it. He dialed.

On the third ring she answered, "Hello?" Right number.

He hadn't even realized how afraid he'd been that she'd just blown him off kindly until now. Weak. Stupid. Just like calling was. "It's Aya."

"Aya!" She sounded surprised and pleased. "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

"I wish it were that simple. I'm calling to let you know that I have to leave the city sooner than I thought. Business."

"You're calling to-- You're a traveling florist?"

Who would believe that? "It sounds ridiculous, I know. It wasn't my idea."

He could hear her smile. "It's perfect for you, Aya."

"I'm starting to wonder what kind of impression you have of me."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"That's what I said."

"Can I see you before you go?" she purred.

Of course, she must have thought that he wanted a goodbye tryst. Why else would he call? "No. We're leaving very soon. I'm not even sure where we're going."

She said nothing for a minute, then replied, "If you're in a cult, you can tell me."

"Yukio!"

"It makes sense. You travel Japan selling flowers to support your cult. I could ride in and rescue you if you want."

He smiled, even though she couldn't see it. "I'm not in a cult."

"Sure, that's what they make you say...."

"All right. I'm in a cult. My god demands blood and flowers."

"See? Don't you feel better now?"

"No. Not really. I don't want to go."

"Then don't!"

He couldn't tell her that they were leaving because of something that had happened to him, making him responsible. "It's the way the business works."

"The traveling florist business."

He couldn't tell her the truth. I'm not really a woman. I am a florist. I am an assassin. We're running because our location is known to a rival group of assassins who have psychic powers.

He wondered if she'd noticed his scars and bruises last night.

"Yes. I'm sorry." He could feel another door closing behind him. Whether he wanted it or not, Weiß could be the only personal contacts in his life. Fighting it made no difference.

"Let me know when you get back."

"Of course." She probably wouldn't care by then. Besides, he'd hopefully be male, which wouldn't interest her. "Goodbye, Yukio."

"I don't believe in goodbyes, Aya. 'Til next time."

He turned off the phone and took another deep breath, feeling claustrophobic.

  


* * *

Omi watched. He had to, to keep Aya safe. Knowing that he intruded on something private, unable to stop anyway, he watched Aya be flirtatious, then seemingly heartbroken. He'd never seen Aya so naked.

Who was it he spoke to? Was this the 'not always' on the phone?

Omi understood Aya very well sometimes. To some extent, everyone in Weiß had the same experience. Why reach out to anyone when life kept smacking you for even trying? As a woman, Aya had been reaching out and kept being punished for it. Who would blame him for giving up?

Somber, Omi waved goodbye to Aya-chan and Momoe-san and walked out to the car. When he tapped on the window, Aya opened the door for him. Despite the curiosity burning through him, Omi didn't ask whom Aya had been talking to.

And Aya, even more somber, said nothing all the way back to the trailer.

Ken and Yoji already had the trailer ready to leave. "Kanazawa," Yoji muttered. "What the hell do any of us know about Kanazawa?"

"It's near the Sea of Japan," Aya answered softly.

"Well, that's ever so helpful. We have my car hooked up. Manx said she'll drive the Porsche to us tomorrow."

"It doesn't matter," Aya said. "Is there anything more that needs to be done?"

"Ken's already securing his motorcycle, so no, we're good."

"I think I'll go to bed then." Aya left.

Yoji looked at Omi. "This is so not good. What happened?"

"He said his goodbyes," Omi answered. "He probably feels like this wouldn't have happened if he hadn't attracted Schuldig's attention. Depression would be a natural reaction."

"And Aya's naturally depressed already."

Which Yoji hadn't exactly helped, but Omi managed not to say that. "Exactly."


	6. Chapter 6

Yoji drank and smoked and tried not to fall over on the couch at the occasional lurching of the trailer. Ken was a menace behind the wheel, but like hell Yoji would drive them all night.

Yoji tried not to think about last night either, but the drinking and smoking just reminded him of the bar and Schuldig and the lust and Aya. How many of his thoughts had involved Aya lately? Too many.

Speaking of.... Bleary-eyed, Aya walked into the room in a black T-shirt and purple silk pajama bottoms, barefoot, and sat at the other end of the couch. Yoji stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and asked, "You couldn't sleep either?"

Aya shot him a look back that said 'I'm awake, aren't I, you idiot?' but, muted by what looked like fatigue and depression, it didn't have Aya's usual force and resolve. It triggered Yoji's instincts, making him want to comfort her. Him. Remembering Aya's earlier depression just strengthened the urge.

Yoji slid closer to him. "I'm sorry about your sister, Aya. It's unfair."

It was unfair that Aya had to be that pretty and female while actually being a man. In a better world, Aya would be a real, uncomplicated woman. Wait, an uncomplicated woman? That would be a _perfect_ world.

Very unfair. "And I'm sorry I freaked out on you last night. Most men would have reacted the same way in my position," Schuldig was atypical and didn't count as 'most men,' fortunately, "but I hurt you and didn't mean it."

Aya had shadows under his pale purple eyes. "Thank you, but I'd rather not talk about it anymore. We should move on and forget."

That was one benefit to Aya being a man; a woman would have wanted to talk about it, but Aya wanted to just forget and pretend it hadn't happened-- "What? I know I was good."

"You were fine, Yoji."

"Just 'fine'?"

"You were the best I had." Aya closed his eyes. "At that point."

What? Yoji stared at him, but Aya didn't say anything else. Had to be messing with him, because nobody could score again that fast. "Sadistic bastard," Yoji muttered.

"In case you haven't noticed, this is the opposite of not talking about it."

"I have my honor to defend."

"All right. You're a stud, Yoji, so incredible that I'll never have sex again because no one else could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for other people."

Yoji ignored the thick sarcasm in that flat voice. "That's more like it."

"Now can we forget about it?"

Damn, Aya even smelled like a woman-- one who didn't wear perfume, but definitely a woman-- and the curve of his graceful neck still drew Yoji's attention. This was insanity. And certainty. Sitting this close, Yoji couldn't deny the continuing attraction. "I... don't want to."

Aya turned to look at him. "You're joking."

"No."

"You _recoiled_ from me."

"I was surprised!"

"I won't open myself to that again."

Yoji lightly stroked the side of Aya's face, ending at his jaw, and smiled at the unconscious lean into his touch. Such smooth, beautiful skin.... "That won't happen again." Aya shivered enticingly under the next stroke, blatantly liking to be touched, hell, begging for it. "Fuck, Aya, is this why you don't touch people?"

Aya jerked away. "Distractions are lethal."

Damn. If Yoji hadn't mentioned it, he would still be getting some petting in. "You want this. I can tell."

"Feelings and attractions happen. The important thing is to maintain self-control and not act on them. That's what counts. I suppose that you know nothing about that. Right now, you're bored or daring yourself or simply horny, while I'm convenient."

"You haven't been convenient in the whole time I've known you!"

They glared at each other, then Aya said, "I suppose that this is where we're supposed to erotically fall upon one another like ravening beasts, our anger and hate firing into desperate passion."

"That's a classic."

"I'm not that kind of girl. I'm not really a girl at all. Even if you don't remember that right now, you will soon enough."

"I know that!"

"I trust you with my life, Yoji, but not with this."

"You don't trust me not to hurt you."

"Would you, if you were in my place?"

"Okay." It hurt, but Yoji could understand it. "How about a friendly hug?"

Aya glared at him. "Yoji!"

"No sex, no scam. You just had a rough day, and a hug might help you."

"I don't _need_ a hug."

"Do you want one?" Yoji could see Aya's indecision, but that iron will still refused to submit, so he continued, "Half a hug. One arm around you, and your head on my shoulder." He slid closer on the couch, close enough to feel Aya's warmth.

Aya almost smiled. "How much further will you haggle yourself down?"

"That's as low as it goes. Any lower and I wouldn't even be touching you." Yoji scooped Aya in and kept one arm around him. "Cozy, yeah?"

"Hnnh." But Aya carefully put his head on Yoji's shoulder and leaned a bit.

"Yeah, that's nice."

Aya's hair felt so soft against his neck and jaw, and he wanted to kiss it. Wanted to kiss everything. Wanted to, but did not do it. Patience would pay off. As they sat together, entwined, quiet, Yoji drifted a little, feeling almost peaceful. Aya made a pleasant armful.

Yoji noticed a few faded blue numbers on Aya's wrist. "What's that? You're writing on yourself now?"

Aya sounded drowsy and almost amused as he said, "Just a reminder. Something on my to-do list. Yoji, I should go back to my bunk. I'm falling asleep."

"Are you comfortable?"

"Mmm. Yeah."

"Then don't go. Stay."

"Your arm will fall asleep."

"Worse things have happened."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Trying to earn back some points, what do you think?"

"Makes sense. I would have distrusted pure altruism. All right." Aya closed his eyes and... snuggled in, making himself more comfortable.

Definite progress. And maybe Yoji would stop being so aroused sometime soon. If he wasn't already a masochist, maybe he should learn to like it, since he kept doing this to himself anyway.

  


* * *

When Aya woke up, he felt an odd weight. Yoji, asleep, had leaned his head against Aya's. How would he get himself loose? He gently pushed Yoji's head back against the couch. Yoji didn't wake or protest, deep sleeper that he was. He looked innocent, if careworn, as he slept.

Aya stood and stretched and tried very hard not to think. Thinking led to despair. After his world had blown apart the first time, he'd thought and thought in circles until he'd wanted to die. Realizing that he couldn't go on that way, he'd devoted himself to _doing_. He would return to that now, setting Tokyo and everything in it behind him. Work would fill the void.

If he tried hard enough, maybe he could convince himself of that.

Omi, sleepy-eyed but dressed, trudged through. "Hey. I'm off to school."

Aya liked Omi and thought this was too soon to throw him into yet another new school. "Kritiker arranged that already?"

"They've done it on short notice before." Omi yawned. "I don't really need schooling, not with how far ahead of everybody I am, but I keep up with it for some semblance of normality."

"This is hardly normal."

Omi gaped at Aya. Was it possible that it had never occurred to him before? "Yes. Maybe.... Things to think about. I'll see you later."

"Do we have a mission tonight?"

"Probably, since Manx specifically sent us here. Why?"

"I could use one today."

  


* * *

They did have an immediate mission in Kanazawa: Yoshimura Sadao, a respected businessman who had recently started providing the 'child' part of a notorious child porn ring. Young boys and girls had been disappearing from the streets in unprecedented numbers for almost a month. Weiß quickly tracked him to his office, where he was working late. Getting in, however, was a different matter altogether.

"Forty-five bodyguards," Ken said in dismay. "What does one man need with forty-five bodyguards?"

"Maybe it's his lucky number," Omi said.

"We can avoid most of them," Aya said, ignoring the byplay. He pointed at the blueprints spread in front of them. "There's a skylight near the back door--"

"No good," Yoji interrupted, loping back across the rooftops towards them. "Guards there too."

Aya growled. Ken said, "Forty-five personal bodyguards, plus--" He nodded at the street-- "the doorman there, and anyone else who routinely guards the building. It'll be rough."

"We can do it," Aya insisted.

"Well," Yoji began, and then a taxi pulled up to the building and they all fell silent.

The woman who emerged from the backseat was obviously a prostitute. She was better dressed than most, definitely a high class call girl, but a call girl all the same. Aya watched, cursing silently, as she strode towards Yoshimura's building.

Sure enough, the woman swaggered up to the doorman and announced, "I'm here for Yoshimura Sadao."

"Great," Ken muttered sourly. "An innocent witness."

"Forget her," Aya said, turning back to the blueprints. "We can get past them before she goes inside. If we go in from here and here--"

"We might not have to," Yoji said slowly.

The doorman was murmuring something into his walkie-talkie, as the prostitute waited impatiently. Aya glanced at them, then looked up at Yoji. "You have a plan?"

"I," said Yoji, "have _such_ a bad idea." But he was grinning, and his eyes were sparkling.

"What?" Aya asked, immediately suspicious.

Yoji ignored him and caught Omi's eye instead, jerking his head towards the woman on the street. Omi glanced at her and started to smile.

"You're evil," Omi murmured.

"What is it?" Aya asked again. He had the uneasy feeling that whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it. And when had those two gotten friendly again?

Without warning, Omi and Yoji dropped from their rooftop perches. Aya jerked in surprise, and Ken patted his shoulder in what was probably meant to be a reassuring manner. "Don't worry. They've got a plan."

"I'm not _blind_," Aya hissed. "But _what_\--"

And then, as he watched in dawning horror and realization, Omi approached the doorman and the prostitute with his best lost-little-boy look and Yoji crept up behind them, and then it was too late to stop them.

Five minutes later, the doorman was unconscious at his post and the prostitute laid, likewise, at their feet, not unlike a corpse left by a cat on a doorstep as a gift. Omi and especially Yoji certainly looked as self-satisfied as cats. Aya said flatly, "Not a chance."

Yoji eyed him critically, ignoring his objections. As usual. "What you've got on should be fine. Have I mentioned how much I'm amused by your concept of proper workplace attire?"

Through gritted teeth, Aya said, "We're _assassins_. We are not _accountants_."

Yoji said, cheerily, "And it's probably better for our souls that way. You ready?"

"I am not doing this!"

"So you wanna explain to Yoshimura why his hooker never arrived?"

"Not especially," Aya said. "I'd rather just kill him."

Yoji spread his arms like a game show host. "And what better way?"

"I was mistaken. I'd rather just kill _you_."

"Think about it," Yoji insisted, with that damnable grin. "Maybe we _could_ get through all his bodyguards, but I don't like the odds, and you don't either. And here's this opportunity falling right in our laps! So you go in there, you get him alone--"

"Unless he wants the guards to watch," Ken piped up, and then paled. "Did I just say that?"

Aya growled. The prostitute murmured something unintelligible and stirred.

"Better decide quickly," Yoji said. "She's waking up. So are you going in, or shall we set this young lady back on her feet and send her in to rat us out?"

Behind him, Omi said quietly, "I think it's our best option, Aya."

Aya whipped his head around to glare at the boy. Omi gazed back at him, apologetic but steadfast, and just as Aya opened his mouth to demand loyalty--_How could you do this to me?_\-- he realized, with a sudden shock, that Omi was being loyal. He was loyal to Weiß, and he was too much of a professional, too much an agent of Kritiker, to let his affection for Aya influence his field decisions. Of course he and Yoji had worked as one; they were a team. Aya was the one who was losing his objectivity.

So instead he just growled, "Don't you _dare_ tell Manx about this."

Omi blinked. "Manx? Why would we--"

"Never mind," he said, suddenly weary. "Fine. I'll do it. And I'll kill you all later."

"Yeah, yeah," Yoji said, unperturbed. "Heard it before." He handed Aya the prostitute's purse. "Make yourself up."

"What?"

"You're a prostitute. You need at least lipstick and eyeliner."

"I'm going to use hers? It's unsanitary. I know exactly where she's been!"

"Aya, he's right," Omi said.

They were right. Other people being right seemed to lead to humiliation and other terrible things for him. Why was that?

The red lipstick he found in her purse left his lips looking unnaturally slick, as if the red weren't whorish enough just by its shade. Less than confident about his facility with eyeshadow, he only used smudged black eyeliner for his eyes. As much as it made him cringe, he decided to take the purse with him. Maybe it would prove useful.

He would walk in there as a prostitute. Carrying a purse. He'd hit a new low. At least the purse matched his outfit.

Aya scowled at them and turned, preparing to march in and face his fate. Suddenly Omi said, "Wait."

"What?" Aya demanded.

"Your katana," Omi said. "They'll probably pat you down before you can go in. Here, take this instead." He held out one of his darts.

Aya stared at it. "Where am I supposed to put it that they won't find it?"

"Well, I just figured you could put it between your...." Omi blushed. "You know."

Lighting a cigarette, Yoji asked, "Legs? You think they won't look there?"

Omi rolled his eyes. "Breasts, you pervert."

"_I'm_ a pervert?"

Aya felt his ears burn. "I can't do that."

"Sure you can," Yoji said. "You're even wearing that handy zipper top, so you've got easy access to the goods." He smirked as he said it, obviously imagining that easy access for himself.

Aya glared. "If you must know, I'm wearing a sports bra. All cleavage is hidden. Besides, there's not much I can do with one dart." He almost smiled. "I need a better hidden weapon, and you're just the person to give it to me."

"Hunh?"

"Your watch."

Yoji's expression suddenly turned strange. "You want to use my wire?"

"I'm not as multitalented with it as you are," unfortunately true, "but I can strangle someone in an old-fashioned way well enough. Yes."

"You need the gloves too so you won't cut your fingers. They're reinforced."

"All right. Hand them over too." Aya took his own off and put them into the pockets of his coat, then slipped his coat slowly from his shoulders. He felt naked without it, and leaving his katana behind-- well, he had experienced castration of a sort, and this was worse. His katana was part of him, the Aya he became on missions, as essential as an arm or a leg.

Omi took the coat from him and nodded encouragement.

Yoji looked dazed but said, "All right," and removed his gloves and watch.

The gloves nearly fit Aya's hands, so Yoji's hands had to be not that much larger than Aya's woman ones. He'd have to keep that in mind for a taunt later. He fastened the heavy man's watch around his wrist and rolled the ends of the gloves into a kind of cuffs. They looked almost stylish that way.

"You know how to use that?" Yoji asked.

Aya pressed the correct stud and showed how he could call up varying lengths of wire, whatever he wanted. He'd watched Yoji, after all, since it only made sense to know how the people watching your back fought. "Yes."

As if to reclaim some ground and seem less unsettled, Yoji said, "Your lipstick's already smudging."

"If you want me to do this, be quiet."

Yoji raised his hands in mock surrender, while Omi met Aya's glare steadily and said, "We're here if you need us."

"I won't," Aya muttered.

"It is the best way. You know that."

"I'm doing it, aren't I?" He leapt to the ground without waiting for a response, landing in a crouch next to the unconscious doorman. Aya took a deep breath, steeled himself, and marched in.

How the hell should he act? What did prostitutes do, aside from the obvious? They probably didn't march, for one thing. He slowed down and put more swing in his walk.

The bodyguards noticed and admired. Aya gave them a professional smile, one that acknowledged but did not welcome. He had one man here he actually had to bother with. Thankfully, after a pat-down that he and the person doing it had enjoyed too much, none of them challenged him, so that doorman must have had more pull here than they'd guessed. Their research also told him what floor and office he had to go to, which meant that he didn't have to chance a conversation with a bodyguard and the revelation of his ignorance of what Yoshimura's usual girls did for him.

Walking through office buildings always sent a strange shiver through him. In another life, he would be working in a place like this. It might have been a better life, but given what had happened to his utterly mundane parents he knew that there were no guarantees.

As soon as he walked through the door, Yoshimura greeted him with "You're not Mariko."

Damn. He had a _favorite_ prostitute he frequented? Aya thought to say that she'd gotten sick, but considering her line of work he said, "She has a bad cold. Very contagious. We hoped that I would work out for you." No need to tell him something that might lead him to think that the girl had a venereal disease.

He was defending a whore's honor to a dead man while trying to be seductive. How fortunate that he'd stopped expecting his life to be sane long ago.

Yoshimura took his time looking Aya over, examining the goods. As usual, the breasts garnered the most attention. "You're not my usual thing, but you'll do."

Aya refused to feel angry or insulted. "Thank you."

Yoshimura approached, then started to circle Aya. To Aya's amusement, the top of the man's head would just reach the bottom of Aya's neck. "What's your name?"

Aya would not play the prostitute under his sister's name or Sakura's. Who could he.... "Asuka."

"Have you done this before?"

He sounded intrigued, so Aya answered, "Not often. _That_, yes. This, no. I'll be happy to do whatever you tell me. Or not, if that's what you prefer."

Yoshimura unzipped one of the zippers on Aya's left sleeve, letting the air conditioning touch the suddenly bare skin of his upper arm and making Aya shiver. The moving zipper sounded so loud.... "You look rough but you seem innocent. And with all these things to toy with.... Unwrapping you might take a while." He undid the zipper placed on a diagonal on the back of Aya's top, exposing more skin.

"I could help if you'd like."

"No, I like this." His hand stroked along Aya's hip and then over the top of his ass. Then he pressed close against Aya's back, cupping a breast with one hand while sliding the other hand lower down Aya's front. Aya could feel Yoshimura's hard cock pressing at the back of his thigh.

Killing him soon would be a good idea. Shutting up the part of himself that said that Yoshimura wasn't that old or bad looking would be even better. Did he have to be such a slut? This... creature was a child pornographer.

Yoshimura pressed his mouth against the bare skin on Aya's back, then said, "Yamada told me that Mariko had arrived. I was tempted to see how far you'd go, but I couldn't keep it quiet. You'll still put out for me, bitch, after I've knocked some respect into you." The clutch of his hands became harder, nearly painful.

This made so many things so much easier. Instead of immediately fighting, Aya went limp and drooped so he could knock his head back hard into Yoshimura's forehead. Surprised, stunned, Yoshimura's grip loosened, and Aya spun away and behind him, then pressed the stud on the watch, hearing the wire reel out with a creepy high-pitched squeal. He looped it around his target's neck and sighed, noticing that Yoshimura managed to get a hand between his neck and the wire. Undaunted, Aya twisted the gleaming wire tight and pulled hard, watching blood flow from the entangled hand and hearing Yoshimura wheeze.

"Bitch...." he gasped as he struggled and kicked.

Aya realized that he was pulling and jerking the wire and Yoshimura around almost in rhythm, like sexual thrusting. It amused him.

This was so brutal, so visceral. Yoji had so much finesse with this weapon that he could strangle a victim quickly and from a distance, but Aya didn't.

Did Yoji ever get aroused doing this?

"Is it good for you?" Aya asked.

Yoshimura just made choking sounds. The upraised hand had been pulled too close to the neck to protect it from anything other than being cut by the wire. He would strangle. Except that on one jerk Aya broke his neck first. Aya hadn't expected that kind of strength from this body. Not that he _minded_....

Aya unlooped the wire, dropped the sagging body, and retracted the wire into the watch casing. A weirdly sensual weapon, even if it didn't respond to his thoughts and movements as supernaturally as it did to Yoji's.

Damn, he felt horny.

How long should he stay before going out and passing the bodyguards? They would get suspicious if he left too soon, wouldn't they? To be safer, he waited another fifteen minutes, thinking of nothing, touching nothing, pacing, before going out the door.

The fifteen minutes made no difference to his state of excitement.

The guards looked at his mussed hair and partially unzipped top and smirked. Fools. Aya put a little more strut into his step.

  


* * *

Yoji smoked and tried not to think of Aya in there. Aya acting the whore and preparing to use _his_ weapon to kill their target. Damn, that was hot.

Omi smacked him, and Yoji asked, "What?"

"I can hear you thinking."

"I've never been so black and blue in my whole fucking life, and I'm an assassin."

"Baby."

Aya walked out in full strut with a 'fuck me' smile on his face. Blatantly turned on. He really did look incredible with makeup on. Without the coat over it, the black outfit revealed every ripe curve. Aya just needed to be unpeeled, and someone had already started the process, unzipping a zipper on one sleeve, making Yoji wonder who had done it. Yoji loved that shirt, though it hadn't come undone on its own on a mission again since that one night.

Ken quickly looked away. Omi gaped, and Yoji put a hand under his chin and closed his mouth for him. Omi glared at him and handed Aya his coat and katana. When Aya turned to put the coat on, Yoji noticed that a zipper in back had been undone as well, showing a contrast of pale skin to dark fabric. Could a man die of curiosity? Maybe, if the lust didn't kill him first.

When Aya looked at him, he noticed that Aya's pupils had so dilated that his pale eyes looked far darker, though the eyeliner helped that as well. The lust didn't seem to be one-sided. They stared at each other for a while, thrumming with it.

Omi made a small growling sound and muttered, "I give up." People on the other side of the world could see his disapproval and annoyance. Ken kept averting his eyes.

"Really?" Yoji asked.

"No." Omi shook his head. "We should go."

They didn't ask Aya if the target had been eliminated. They didn't need to.

Since he didn't quite trust Omi or Ken with the car and Aya seemed a bit too buzzed to drive, Yoji took the wheel when what he really wanted to do was sit in back with Aya. He had to content himself with glances back in the rearview mirror.

"God, Yoji, Omi's just barely old enough to be allowed to see the looks you're giving Aya," Ken muttered from the passenger seat.

"What about the ones he's giving me back?" Yoji murmured.

"Actually, he's looking at all of us like we'd be good to eat."

Yoji nearly crashed the car from the mental image.

"Do you need _me_ to drive?" Omi asked from the back.

"Yoji, just get us home safely," Aya said. No doubt he wanted to get home quickly so he could jack off. Not that Aya had to take care of himself alone.

Yoji managed to drive them back to the trailer without killing them. Aya entered the trailer first, with Yoji at his heels. As he walked, Aya let the snow queen coat slide down off his back in a swirl of white, making him a slinky black shadow punctuated by glimpses of pale skin and bright hair, and placed it and his katana carefully on the couch before he went into the bathroom. Yoji followed him in and closed the door, then unfastened his coat and let it hang open. He hadn't put a shirt on under it.

Aya gave him a heated look. "What are you doing?"

"Getting my weapon back."

"That's all?"

"Do you want more?"

"No."

Yoji grinned. "Aya, if you wanted it any more you'd be knocking me down and taking it."

"Hope springs eternal."

"Something here is sprung."

"You're all class."

"Oh yeah."

Aya took off one of Yoji's gloves but before he could take off the watch and other glove Yoji held that wrist and lifted it to his face. The glove smelled of his cologne. Aya had killed with his gear. Fuck, he was hard. Aya breathed deeply, licked shiny red lips, and stared at him.

"You were gone for a while," Yoji said, then kissed Aya's gloved fingers.

"I had to make it look good."

"What else did you do to make it look good?" Aya's hand clenched and tried to pull away, but Yoji kept his grip. "I get... eager after a kill sometimes. It happens."

"Not to me, not like this."

Yoji pulled him in close enough to feel his heart pound. "Yeah."

Aya pressed against him but said, "This isn't a better idea tonight than it was last night." The master of mixed messages, but that _was_ Aya, who often seemed to want two conflicting things at once.

They didn't kiss so much as devour one another as they rubbed together. Aya's hands stole up under his coat to stroke and clench along his back, while he had one hand in Aya's soft crimson hair and the other quickly tracing circles on the skin bared by the zipper. All the zippers called to him, so he unzipped the one on the other sleeve, the back of Aya's neck, the top of Aya's breasts (damned bra prevented access, though), and over his stomach. It made it look as if Aya was coming undone at the seams and added to his debauched look.

Gasping, Aya hopped up backward onto the counter and spread his legs open. Needing no other invitation, Yoji pressed in close and thrust and thrust, wishing he had far less clothing on but much too excited to do anything about it. If they'd both been unclothed they'd be fucking right now, but there was something hot and dirty in doing this in their mission wear, and frottage could be good, frottage could be very good when he had Aya moaning and wrapping his legs around him, meeting his thrusts. Had Aya always secretly been this wild or was it _her_?

Aya could change again, but right now Yoji didn't care. Was he so shallow that he'd leave a sexy creature who was mad with lust to languish unfulfilled just because the body wasn't stable? No. Woman, man, Aya wanted him badly. Yoji thought of their target touching Aya, thinking he'd get this, and it made him thrust harder and hold on tighter.

"Oh, fuck...." Aya groaned, then bit his ear.

Yoji came hard, blacking out for an intense and wonderful moment, and came back to see a still female Aya looking very frustrated. He grabbed her, backed up until he hit the wall, then cupped her ass and lower and started to stroke hard. Aya closed her eyes, arched her neck, writhed, and let out a chorus of ever more intense Ohs until she convulsed and her legs began to lose their grip around his waist. He helped her down to her feet and stopped her sag to the floor... and for a moment she became he again with a grunt of pain before flipping back to she. Yoji _felt_ that body changing each time.

He stopped breathing for a moment but stayed calm. There. That hadn't been so bad. And, damn, he felt good right now.

Aya leaned on and rested her/his head against his chest. "You okay?" Yoji asked.

"Dizzy...." Aya took a deep breath. "This was such a mistake."

"Not at all."

Eyes wild, Aya pulled away, took off Yoji's watch and remaining glove, and set them down on the counter. "I didn't mean to do this. I didn't want this."

"Could've fooled me."

"I have to go." Aya opened the door and fled at a speed that shouldn't have been human.

Damn. One step forward, one step back. Maybe even two steps back. But he didn't pursue, because he got the feeling that pressing the issue now would make it worse.

There went the possibility of showering together.

  


* * *

Omi watched as a hunted looking Aya left the bathroom, grabbed his katana, and rushed to the bunk area. For someone who supposedly wanted Yoji so badly, Aya spent a lot of time running away from him.

Then again, Aya's top had been unzipped every which way by _somebody_.

"Ken, don't you think it's weird that Aya's... like this so much of the time?" Omi asked.

Ken rolled his eyes. "Aya's a _woman_ now, and you're asking me if it's weird that he's a slut too? Sure, Omi."

Great. He couldn't ask anyone questions to help him work on his theory without them actually assuming that he was jealous. Which he was, but not to the extent that it clouded his judgment. Something was going on.

  


* * *

Aya could do with a shower, but that would mean facing Yoji again, which he would not do. His usual post-mission routine involved inspecting and caring for his katana, but he hadn't used it tonight, so the usual peace that came with that ritual would not come tonight. There was no point in doing it when he hadn't even drawn it. It would be foolishness, weakness.

The change had left him tired, but he couldn't sleep, so he paced. He was probably keeping Ken and Omi from their bunks and sleep, but right now that didn't matter to him.

He'd wanted what Yoji had done to him and stayed female until the very end by sheer want. What had happened showed him utterly out of control in some ways and in it in others.

He was a slut who got off on killing and couldn't control his own lusts. His panties were wet. He was _wearing_ panties. Situations and thoughts that had been utterly foreign to him weeks ago now felt natural, right. If he changed back permanently, would it feel wrong?

He couldn't stay here.

He put his leather jacket on and realized with some horror that it didn't smell like him anymore, it smelled like _her_. Once, he'd thought that madness had a bottom you could hit and eventually you couldn't drop any further. Wrong again.

As he passed the bathroom, he heard the shower running. Since Ken and Omi were in the next room, it had to be Yoji washing, which made sense, since male orgasm tended to be far messier. Aya twitched all over and kept walking.

When Aya reached the door, Omi asked, "Where are you going?"

"Out."

Omi's gaze started at his chest but quickly rose to his mouth. "You can't go out alone."

"We came to Kanazawa so we wouldn't have to do this shit. If being in another city isn't enough to stop Schuldig, then there's no point."

"I'm going with you. If not right now, then I'll follow you."

He had no control over any other aspect of his life, so why not this too? Aya kept walking and felt Omi follow at his heels.

Omi said nothing as Aya drove, but his presence and aura of concern each had a weight, and they seemed to settle on Aya's chest, making it hard to breathe. Aya parked the car near a park he saw and got out. Again, Omi followed.

He couldn't keep living like this, but he saw no alternatives.

  


* * *

Omi took a deep breath, enjoying the night, moonlight, and heavy scent of flowers. Pretty spot. Pretty company too, though Omi was much happier now that most of the slick red lipstick had worn off.

"I want to be left alone," Aya said. "I don't think it's so much to ask, but Schwarz and my own team seems to feel otherwise."

"Being left alone is probably the worst thing for you right now."

"No, it's not. It's best. It's best that I don't have people crowding me and touching me.... I can't take this anymore!" Aya threw his arms out, which made his top gape more from the two visible, unfastened zippers.

Omi had been expecting an eruption of some kind. Aya had held it in longer than he'd expected. "I think you're doing well."

"'Well'? You think I'm a slut. _I_ think I'm a slut."

That put a whole new spin on Aya's plea for solitude. "It's hard to judge when you haven't been in the situation yourself," Omi said as diplomatically as he could. He tried to keep his gaze on Aya's face. Aya's pretty, made-up face. This wasn't working.

"Judging is what we do."

"It's what Kritiker does."

Aya's lips curved in scorn. "We simply execute."

"More than that."

"I don't know who I am anymore. If I change back to my _rightful_ self, it will feel wrong."

"You don't know that."

Aya shivered. "I'm sure."

Omi fastened the bottom zipper to make Aya warmer and remove the distraction of that bare, toned midriff. Since Aya didn't protest, Omi fastened the top one too, not quite ignoring what he was touching. That left them standing very close. Omi looked up at Aya as Aya looked down at him. So very close.

He couldn't say who started the kiss and didn't care at that moment. Sweet, so sweet. The body didn't matter, because Omi had fantasized about both of them. Aya smelled of leather, sweat, cigarettes, and a hint of blood, but those were Weiß smells, good smells.

Then Aya pulled back gently, mouth trembling. "I'm sorry."

"You don't know why you did that." Which hurt a little, but Omi knew that Aya did care about him, and he wouldn't forget this kiss.

"You touched me. That was all. I don't know what's wrong with me that I'm like... this. I _hunger_, Omi." Aya put his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes. "Manx mustn't ever hear about this."

Manx might start tossing Aya at any target she could think of if she knew that Aya could sometimes be triggered just by someone touching him. "She won't. Not ever."

"I don't respond to everybody, Omi. I feel it, but I don't...."

Don't touch back for just anyone. Omi smiled. "Love you too, Aya. We'll find a way to fix this. Not that it's so bad. You're just feeling more physically affectionate lately."

"'Affectionate' isn't the word I'd use."

"We'll beat this." Not that Omi saw all that much wrong with it. "We're not giving up."

"Thank you."

"Ready to go back home?"

"Yes, but I'll settle for returning to the trailer."

"See? It can't be so bad if you can make jokes about it."

Aya shook his head.

  


* * *

When Yoji finally came out to work after lunch, Aya said, "Yoji, last night--"

"Never happened? Of course not," Yoji quickly answered, as if expecting it, and looked far too cheerful and smug. Humoring him. Dammit.

Yoji's whole attitude said that he expected sex to ensue again eventually. He probably thought that the repetition would wear Aya down into simply accepting it.

He didn't understand Aya's shame and anger and the fact that they wouldn't be having sex again. Ever.

  


* * *

As Aya used his victim's coat to wipe the blood from his katana, he heard and felt the rumble. He smelled dust. Familiar....

Omi ran back into the room. "We have to go. I think the place is--"

When another rumble hit, a ceiling beam fell to block the doorway. Debris started to rain down. Why the hell did this keep happening to him?

Aya fought down the fear. It wasn't a phobia. It was only sensible to be afraid of having a building fall on you, especially when it had happened more than once before. He whipped his gaze around to look for an exit but found none. Door blocked. Windows blocked.

If the last three hadn't killed him, this one sure as hell wouldn't. Dancing between clumps of falling debris, Aya grabbed Omi and tried to shield him with his body. They wouldn't die. He wouldn't let them.

At the very least maybe he could save Omi.

  


* * *

"Yoji!" Ken shouted.

Yoji turned and saw the building they'd just run out of it start to collapse on itself as explosions rocked through it. It fell to pieces in a rush and roar, dust clouds flying, choking him. Who the hell had blown the place up? Not them.

Aya and Omi hadn't gotten out.

He could feel his heart shatter. It hurt worse than almost anything he'd ever felt before. Next to him, Ken stared at the huge pile of rubble, his lips trembling. He didn't know if Ken could take losing a few more friends. For Yoji, this was losing more than half of his.

They coughed uncontrollably through the dingy gray-brown cloud of dust and dirt that flew around them, but Yoji couldn't bring himself to move and it seemed like Ken felt the same way. Ken, who didn't have even the scant eye protection Yoji's sunglasses provided, blinked and grimaced. Yoji didn't bother to blame his tears on the dust. It seemed disrespectful.

As the air cleared, Yoji went back to staring at the rubble. Part of him wouldn't believe it. They'd gotten through so much....

He saw movement, a flash of red and white. No way. Then he really started to doubt his eyes. It was Aya and Omi walking toward them, and Aya had his arm around Omi. Walking _through_ the debris like ghosts. Fuck, his mind had broken. He was seeing things. Omi looked shocked. Shocked?

But Aya, _male_ Aya, a very tired looking male Aya, stopped in front of Yoji and asked, "Are you just going to stand there?" Then he collapsed at Yoji's feet, a very solid weight atop Yoji's boots.

"Aya!" Omi shouted and knelt beside him.

"You're alive," Yoji said.

"Yes!" Omi said. Ken grabbed him by the shoulders and hugged him.

Yoji knelt beside Aya too and gently turned him over. He felt solid.... Strange how Aya looked so wrong as a man now, his face too squared and angular, his body proportions wrong, even though he was still pretty, if in a different way. Yoji realized that Aya had been a woman for about a month. The woman's clothing looked painfully constricting, stretched taut, its seams splitting, on his body.

"We have to get him out of here," Yoji said. He picked Aya up in his arms, and they ran to the car. He could ask himself how the hell Aya and Omi had survived later.

Ken took the driver's seat, Omi the passenger seat, and Yoji put himself and Aya in the backseat, smirking at the echo. Ken hit the gas pedal hard.

Unconscious, Aya still had an expression of pain on his face, which might not be from being squashed into clothing too small for him, but why add this to it? "Omi, give me a knife," Yoji said.

Omi looked back. "Why?"

"That's the only way some of this is coming off."

"You're stripping him?" Omi sounded pissed.

"Imagine what his boots feel like. Or just look at his hands in those gloves. Or think about how his bra must be--"

Omi winced. "Yeah." He pulled a blade out and handed it to Yoji.

Yoji carefully sliced the shredding, far too tight gloves away, and Aya didn't stir at all. Getting the boots off took a while, but Aya's expression eased a little afterwards. Taking off the coat made a little trouble as he wrestled with Aya's long limbs and lean body, but not much. The shirt looked weird now that only the bra pushed it out, but in other sections the buckles strained the holes. Still, the straps were mostly easy to work with. "At least he wore a shirt that comes off easily." Hearing Omi laugh, Yoji asked, "What?"

"The straps are practical for easy access. Sorry. It was a private shopping moment."

Yoji sliced the bra off. Now he obviously had original recipe Aya passed out cold in his lap. Half-naked, which was unusual, and wearing pants that were too tight for him, but it was definitely the ice king. Aya shivered, so Yoji draped the coat over him. It gave him more peace of mind having him covered.

"Do you think that's how he survived?" Omi asked.

"Survived what? Oh." Aya's family's home had exploded around him, but Aya had survived. "Maybe." Trauma. Yoji remembered something about that.

"Omi, what did it feel like?" Ken asked.

"I don't know. I didn't feel any of the debris or anything, but I felt Aya against me. I felt it when he changed. We were walking, but I wasn't thinking. I don't think he was either." Omi's thoughtful look became even more thoughtful. "When Schreient's place came down around our heads, we came to under only a light pile of rubble, which should have been impossible. Then when the citadel fell... I don't remember much, because I was out of it."

"I wasn't much good during that one either," Ken said. They'd both had the crap beaten out of them by Schwarz.

Which left Yoji. "I had a lot on my mind then. Most of the citadel, actually. But if Aya protected us, I don't think he knew it."

"Is Omi all right?" Aya suddenly said, looking up at Yoji with tired and dazed eyes. Yoji would have to get used to that deep voice again.

For whatever reason, Aya was staying Aya. Maybe he'd hit the end of his strength and was forced into default mode? He sure looked like he couldn't move anymore.

"Yeah, you got him out."

"I'm right here!" Omi said from the front.

Aya closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Good." Then he opened his eyes again. "Wait. How did I get him out?"

"What do you remember?" Yoji asked.

Aya's brow furrowed a little. "I tried to shield Omi. When nothing hit us, I tried to walk us out of there through the dust. It didn't make sense, but I didn't intend to stand there gaping at my good fortune. What is it?"

"You walked Omi through the debris like you were ghosts, and you were back to yourself again."

"The first is impossible. But thank you for getting me out of the boots."

"How the hell do you think you got out of that alive?"

"I've gotten us out alive before."

"Exactly!"

Aya stilled. "I don't feel well."

"Everything's fine," Omi said. "We're all safe, and you're you again."

Yoji heard Aya murmur, "Am I?" Then Aya closed his eyes and rested again, conscious but obviously exhausted.

The rest of the ride passed in a heavy silence, since the nervous energy of the impossible survival seemed to have worn off. Everybody else was probably as lost in thought as Yoji found himself to be.

  


* * *

Keeping his eyes closed had been a form of hiding. If he 'rested,' they would be less likely to bother him with questions he couldn't answer. Fortunately, his ploy had worked.

When the car stopped at their home, Aya opened his eyes again and carefully sat up, hard to do while his body felt like pudding. He prayed that it was fatigue and not some other freakish thing happening to him. "I need to change into something comfortable first." No one protested, though they did stare at him....

Aya stumbled as he stood and tried to walk. Now he had to relearn how to walk with his real body. He sighed and worked to get the feel of it again.

Everything felt wrong.

Once he was inside the trailer, removing the pants took ages, but at least all of his original equipment had returned. Trying to get comfortable, he quickly changed into his own underwear, a baggy navy blue sweater, and baggy jeans. He slammed the door on the closet so he wouldn't have to see his women's things. Wouldn't have to feel that weird longing.

Everyone stared at him again as he walked a bit clumsily into the briefing room. Manx, standing there amongst them, had a calculating look on her face. He immediately sat on the couch and said, "I assume you've been informed of what happened."

"I don't think you need me to tell you how we'd love to have an operative who can walk through walls," Manx answered.

It all seemed unreal, even if he had spent the last few weeks as a woman. "How am I to train myself to do it, though? Will we be collapsing buildings on me until I get the knack of it?"

"There has to be a way. I know you, Aya. Now that you know you have this, you won't be content with only using it subconsciously when you're in danger. You'll want to master it."

She was right.

"All those times you run into a hail of bullets, you could know you'd be okay," Ken said.

"Who said he wasn't already doing that?" Omi replied.

Aya sighed. It made too much sense.

"There's something I want to tell you, Aya. I don't know if you want the others here for this," Manx said.

"They might as well stay."

"If you insist. When we first became aware of you, we thought you had an accomplice, a woman who looked a lot like you."

No. "I would have noticed if I'd changed into a woman back then."

"We have surveillance footage of her." Onscreen, a picture flashed of a red-haired woman with a katana who wore a coat exactly like Aya's original mission coat. No, not a woman, Aya saw, but a very androgynous figure, one that could easily be mistaken for a woman.

How embarrassing that they'd caught him on film. But he'd been reckless then....

"That doesn't look as much like Aya as he's looked recently," Ken said. "I mean-- you know what I mean."

Aya saw it and closed his eyes. "Don't look at it as a female me. The face is a melding of two people."

Omi got it. "It looks like a mix of Aya and his sister!"

"I thought of my sister often while working toward our vengeance." Even back then, he'd been... wrong, not normal. Now everything was suspect, like how his hair had darkened over the last two years. Had it darkened because it was supposed to or because his darker frame of mind had subconsciously darkened his hair to match?

Manx continued, "When we recruited Aya, we waited for his partner to show, but we never saw her again. Maybe the structure of being in a team and having people put expectations on him stabilized him."

"Manx, he's in the room," Omi said. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"We wanted to have a better idea of what we were dealing with."

"Knowing this could have helped!"

"What's done is done," Aya said softly. "In any case, it would seem that I now feel unstable enough that I could change into a woman for about a month, with only a few breaks. Killing Takatori and my sister coming out of her coma changed the rules for me." Left him adrift, not knowing who he was or why he did anything anymore.

"Yeah. If we see a pattern to the changes back, you can control it," Omi said. "We know that... uhm...."

"Yes, we know that works," Aya answered and smiled at Manx's annoyance at being left in the dark. She didn't have to know about his sex life, especially since she hadn't seen fit to tell him that he'd been changing years ago.

So... a sex dream had brought him back to himself, but then he shifted back as soon as he'd relaxed into sleep. His first experience with Yoji had been negative, and he'd half expected to change back to a woman, and so he had. He'd desperately wanted to remain a woman for Yukio, and so he had. He'd retained some control during the second time with Yoji but not as much as he had with Yukio, perhaps because Yoji knew him as a man....

Perhaps the shifting had required a certain degree of letting go of his thoughts that sex allowed. Despite his battle trances, he focused too hard in battle for the extreme emotion there to do the trick.

But why had he changed that first time? He hadn't thought himself that stressed.

"Why didn't you change back when your sister was with you?" Ken asked.

That was easy. Aya saw it immediately. "She was too thrilled at the thought of having a sister for a little while." Remembering her smile and amazement, he felt a moment of vertigo and fought it hard.

Excited, Omi looked years younger. "Do that again! Oh. Sorry. But, Aya, you stopped it!"

"That's a good sign. I think." As a test, he thought of Yukio, and felt his body start to slide into female dimensions again. He stopped it so quickly that the others probably didn't notice.

The ability to ghost seemed to work on slightly different principles, being utterly survival-oriented. Untangling it all would take time and effort. Training himself would be even more difficult.

Aya noticed that, for once, Yoji had nothing to say. He just sat there with a thoughtful expression on his face. Aya remembered coming to half-naked in Yoji's lap and wondered what he was thinking.

Maybe he really didn't want to know what Yoji really thought. Especially when he didn't even know what _he_ thought.

He felt... wrong with his weight redistributed correctly, something he'd suspected might happen but had hoped wouldn't. This was his real body. A month as a woman shouldn't have skewed his perceptions so strongly. Maybe all the work he'd done to drill his other body to work well and instinctively in the field could be blamed. Familiarizing himself with and optimizing its levels of strength, speed, and flexibility had been the whole point of the training. He might even have to retrain himself, a prospect that didn't cheer him. It made sense, and he'd go with that explanation.

It unsettled him nonetheless. He looked away from Yoji and half-listened to the conversation around him, which mostly focused on the increasingly ridiculous methods Manx was proposing to train him in the use of his... abilities. They didn't expect more than the occasional 'hnn' or cold, flat 'no' from him anyway, and Omi immediately shot down the more ludicrous or dangerous suggestions with a sarcasm he rarely showed. Aya shouldn't need help from Omi but appreciated it. He was just so tired.

Tonight, he'd survived another explosion and building collapse, walked through walls, and changed back to himself for the longest time in the past month. He had good reason to be tired.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Manx left it was almost three in the morning. Omi had school the next day, the poor bastard, so Ken herded him off to bed, overriding Omi's objections of God knew what-- something involving the computer, no doubt-- with his best I'm The Coach, Do What I Say voice, and left Yoji alone with Aya. Again.

Yoji slumped in his seat, pointedly studying his hands, darting occasional glances at Aya from behind his sunglasses. Perched on the edge of the sofa, avoiding Yoji's eyes, Aya looked... wrong. Different. Normal.

Fuck, he didn't even know anymore.

Aya stood abruptly, still not looking at Yoji. "I'm going to bed."

"Good idea," Yoji said, standing as well. And then, inanely: "Busy night."

Aya's mouth twisted in acknowledgement, but he didn't say anything. Big surprise.

Yoji followed him silently to the bedroom and caught himself staring at Aya's jeans-clad ass, probably out of habit. He shook his head, trying to banish the image. Aya was male now-- and he'd certainly seen enough of _that_ already, thank you very much.

He had no excuses for checking out Aya's ass, not with Aya wearing the baggiest jeans he owned.

Aya was looking at him strangely. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

God, that voice-- vintage cranky Aya, with no hint of the modulating feminine purr.... "Nothing," Yoji said quickly, and willed it to be so.

"Hnh." Aya held his gaze for another long moment. Yoji smiled nervously. Aya shook his head and stepped into the bedroom.

The lights were off, Ken and Omi already snoring away in their respective bunks. Yoji felt something soften in his chest as he stared down at them. They'd all been through a lot that night. Suddenly Omi's recent strange behavior didn't seem to matter as much.

And then all the built-up exhaustion hit him like a brick wall (_like a falling building_, an evil voice whispered in his head) and Yoji collapsed on his own bed with a long, drawn-out sigh. He needed a shower, but as soon as he hit the mattress he knew he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. It could wait until morning. He wasn't _that_ dirty. He wasn't the one who'd had a building explode around him, after all.

He shed his clothes with the ease of long practice, dropping them on the floor beside his bunk, then glanced at Aya as he crawled under the covers. And tried not to watch as Aya pulled off his sweater and shimmied out of the loose jeans, folding both neatly on top of his dresser. Tried not to stare at the loose boxers that were Aya's only concession to decency. Because Aya was male. And he'd seen enough of male Aya to last him a lifetime. He really had.

_Sure you have, Kudou._

The mental voice sounded unsettlingly familiar. Yoji couldn't tell if it was actually Schuldig in his head or if his inner smart-ass had just started to take on Schuldig's voice. He wasn't sure which would be worse.

Just to be safe, he thought, _Fuck off, asshole_, as loudly as he could, then rolled over and buried his face determinedly in his pillow. It wasn't long before he dropped off to sleep.

The dream started like countless others-- a warm, yielding body against his, warm feminine touches brushing his skin. Yoji pressed his lips against hers, ran his hands over her luscious curves, and if he gave his dream woman pale lavender eyes and a thatch of improbably red hair, well, that wasn't so strange, was it? Considering how long he'd been lusting after Aya's female form and the ways Aya pulled him in close, then pushed him away, frustrating, teasing....

He wasn't sure when things changed, only that the hip under his hand was suddenly hard and angular, the chest against his smooth and flat, and as something hot and rigid and alien pressed up against his thigh an unexpected wave of lust crashed over him, making him shudder, wracking his body down to the bone.

Aya, he thought, or maybe said, over and over and over. Aya, Aya, Aya. Aya murmuring Yoji's name and begging with words and his body, as wanton and demanding as he'd been as a woman.

And then another body pressed up against Yoji from behind, warm and sweat-slicked and oh so inviting, and he fit so neatly into the cradle of hips, the

(oh God)

hard cock thrusting insistently into him in time with Aya's thrusts, with his own. Too much, too good.... He was between, surrounded by willing flesh, kissed and pressed and rubbed and petted, being _fucked_, and he loved it.

Caressing silk-soft hair spilled over his shoulder, the color of sunset, of tiger lilies, making him shudder. Teeth closed down hard on his earlobe and, oh God, he was coming hard into Aya's fist. He gasped for breath and saw stars, and then he was looking over his shoulder into narrowed blue eyes and

(oh God oh God)

Schuldig smirked at him and purred, "Never thought you'd have it in you."

And then he woke up.

  


* * *

Ran stared at the scene in front of him, because it shouldn't be like this. His parents on the floor, dead. The clock. That sound.... Even his shock-slowed brain knew what would come next. He had to get Aya out of here, save Aya, but there was no time. He yelled at her to get out, get _out_, and _pushed_ her. His home exploded into pieces around him with a roar the way his life had exploded, the way his head was exploding. So fast, so total, screaming along with him. It hurt.

Motion. Dark.

Dust and dirt and fire. Pinned. He couldn't move under the debris, but he could see her get up from the ground and stand there outside, looking surprised and completely unharmed. A miracle. His pain and the burning inside didn't matter while she lived and he lived. He'd saved her. He hadn't failed her.

Light blinked on, blinding. Confused, they turned to face it. The black shape sped toward her, and when it hit her she flew. Too late to scream at her to move--though he did scream--or try to free himself. He shuddered himself at the feeling of impact. Her body hit the wet ground hard with an ugly sound, and she didn't move.

She couldn't be dead. Was not dead. Girls didn't die on their 16th birthdays, especially not after their brothers had already saved them. She would have her birthday dinner and all the time she was supposed to have if he had to kill himself to give them to her. He wouldn't let anyone rob her of anything. Live, Aya, live....

Something inside him broke and started to cool to dead, gray ash, turning colder and harder as he watched two men arguing nearby, both of them ignoring his sister's crumpled body, neglecting to help her. One man visible through a limo's open window, another standing outside yelling at him. Ran would remember them.

Unable to breathe, the inside of his head splintering, Ran passed--

Something moved under his chin and pushed his head up to make him stare at a tall figure that stayed utterly dry despite the rain. "No need for that. This isn't real, just a memory." The man lit a cigarette, grinned, and moved the toe of his boot out from under Ran's chin. "Well, fuck me. Things make more sense now." Schuldig.

Ran became Aya as contemporary knowledge returned. "Get out of my head."

"Ingrate. You were scheduled for a nightmare."

"You don't think this was a nightmare? And I'm sure you did that from the goodness of your heart."

"Hell, no. I did it because I'm a nosy little bitch. This is the first time I got the whole thing. Before, you blocked out the little details even to yourself and just left the broad strokes: sappy happiness before, dead parents, oh no, boom, roadkill sister, the Takatoris."

Aya snarled and stood, the memory debris falling easily away, and walked over to his sister. As Aya crouched in the mud beside her memory, Schuldig said, "They were so obsessed with her and never realized that you were the key. Classic."

"What are you babbling about?" Aya asked as his sister's body faded away.

"Amazing what desperation and blind ignorance can do. You saved your life once, hers twice, and screwed yourself up in only a few minutes. She would have died when Takatori hit her, but you saved her and made her forever 16. She didn't age because of _you_. No wonder you make such a good woman. You bound yourself to your sister, you poor bastard."

No. "Then why couldn't I wake her up?"

"You're a biokinetic with a medical degree and intensive training in your ability? Nope. You didn't have a clue what to do or how to do it. You didn't even know you could do anything. Maybe if she'd started to die in the hospital, it would have forced a subconscious action, but you weren't that lucky. Sorry, sweet."

"Get out of my brain."

"You know, I could have satisfied my curiosity and left without you knowing. I don't have to clue you in. I could be in Yoji's head right now, and it sounds like something fun is going on in there, let me tell you."

"Why are you... helping me, then?"

"Can't beat the interactive entertainment. Besides, you put on quite a show for me with Yoji and Yukio."

Aya rushed up to strike. "Son of a--"

Lightning swift, Schuldig grabbed him, reeled him in, and kissed him, then disappeared.

"I'm sure you're that fast in everything," Aya muttered, his lips tingling.

Schuldig reappeared to say, "Oh no, I can go all night long on _that_," then faded out, his smirk disappearing last.

  


* * *

Yoji crept past Aya's bunk. No one walking here. No one who just had a hot and disturbing dream about you and your stalker. But he couldn't help stopping to look in, to see if Aya had feminized again. Nope, still original flavor Aya. Even in the near darkness, the shape was unmistakably male. Aya made a sound in his sleep that could almost be a whimper.

Aya would kill him for hearing it.

Yoji remembered the cascade of impressions he'd gotten the first time he'd met Aya: crazy, bombastic, reckless, asshole. Followed by: This is supposed to be our new teammate? Later, Yoji got to see the non-mission version of Aya, who was frigid and uncommunicative and tended to alternate between sullen rage and a depression badly veiled as apathy. Then he'd _really_ wondered who the hell had decided that Aya would fit with them. Not that he expected well-adjusted sanity from anyone who would be drawn into Weiß, but a pleasant personality was appreciated.

When had Aya grown on him?

That had to be it. Grown on him. Yoji had gotten used to having a sullen crimson-haired presence in his life, just as in the last month he'd gotten so accustomed to connecting lust with that hair and presence that he couldn't stop now.

Aya was part of the team that made up the core of Yoji's life. Getting a rise out of Aya was easy, but that didn't mean that doing it stopped being fun. Trying to make him smile presented more of a challenge, and Yoji had accepted it. Omi existed to be cute and fun to tease and too smart. Yoji hoped that he could settle things with Omi so they could get back to that. Ken made a great straight man and was always there, a wall you could put your back against.

When Weiß had disbanded and scattered after they'd nailed Takatori, Yoji had done well for himself without them and hadn't really missed them, yet he'd gone right back into the team as if he'd never left when Schreient attacked them as individuals and remained reunited with them even after Schreient's destruction and their recovery of Aya's sister. They'd helped keep him together after he'd... killed Asuka, Neu, whoever she'd really been, with Omi and Ken worried and sympathetic and Aya short with him but still worried and sympathetic in an Aya way. Pretending to turn on Ken and Omi, even though Ken and Omi had been in on the act, during the Powell mission had torn at him.

He didn't want to want them around. He didn't want to worry that he might not be able to keep himself together without them anymore. But he didn't want to lust after Aya either, and look how that was going.

  


* * *

Ken seemed to be the only one awake, unusual for this time of morning. Omi still looked exhausted even while sleeping, so Ken decided not to bother him. Kid could stand to miss a day of school, especially after the even later than usual night and close escape from death. If Aya hadn't been breathing, Ken would have thought him dead from how drained and still he looked. It worried him, but Aya had even more reason to be out cold than Omi did. If Aya slept through the afternoon, then he'd get really worried. And at least Aya was still Aya, so maybe he'd finally changed back for good. Weird that seeing a guy in that bed seemed wrong.

It was a shame he never had to try to wake girl Aya up.

Yoji still slept, but that was normal. Well, Ken needed help setting up and running the shop, so Yoji would have to do with less beauty sleep. Ken shook him hard.

"What? What?"

"Time to work, Yoji. I'm giving Aya a break this morning, so you're elected."

Yoji shoved his face into the pillow. "Slave driver."

"When you walk through walls to get yourself and Omi to safety, you can have the morning off too."

After 20 minutes of yelling, pulling, pushing, and dragging, followed by shoving a mug of coffee into Yoji's face, Ken finally got him out the door to set up. At least he hadn't been forced to bathe and dress him. That would have been too much. "I hope you appreciate my sacrifice," he muttered as he checked in on Omi and Aya one last time.

A morning with Yoji had major differences from a morning with Aya. Sure, Yoji kidded around more and was friendlier, but Ken kept getting stuck with the crap jobs and had to make sure Yoji did even the tasks he said he'd do. Flirting--something Yoji did unconsciously, like breathing--might help ensure that their customers returned, but other things were necessary too. Ken called him a lazy bastard at least four times an hour. Cool silence started to seem very attractive, especially since it had always been paired with competence, professionalism, and a tendency to quietly do whatever needed to be done as it needed to be done.

Sometime after lunch, Omi ran out of the trailer. "I can't wake Aya up."

And it was four o'clock in the afternoon. "He's still breathing, right?" Ken asked.

"Yeah, but I can't even get a murmur out of him and look how late it is! Oh, and I hate it that you didn't get me up for school."

"You needed a vacation." It might be nothing. Aya could just be really tired. "Let's go see Aya."

"What's going on?" Yoji asked as he hefted a basket around.

"Omi can't wake Aya up."

"Damn." He put his burden down and turned their sign around, then yelled, "We're taking a break, girls. Be back soon."

Amidst the girls' moans and sighs, Ken asked, "Is it really necessary to have all three of us standing over him? It'll freak him out."

"And if we can't get him going?"

"I hate this."

For some reason, Yoji went off to the kitchen while the rest of them walked to the sleeping area. Ken figured that he'd find out what was up with that soon enough.

Aya had barely moved since Ken had last seen him. Could be bad, or could just be Aya. Ken took him by the shoulder and shook it gently. "Aya, c'mon. Aya!" No response. Aya's body moved bonelessly in his grip, without any resistance. Okay, considering what Aya could do, maybe for the sake of his own mental health Ken shouldn't think he could be 'boneless'. Scary.

It would be too much of a sick joke for Aya to slip into a coma after what had happened to his sister.

"I tried that," Omi said.

"Step back," Yoji said as he walked in with a pot and a metal spoon. Ken and Omi put their hands over their ears as Yoji whaled on the pot for about five minutes, but Ken could still hear the clanging.

Aya didn't stir.

"_That_ is serious sleep," Yoji said, but he looked concerned. He put the pot and spoon down, picked Aya up by his shoulders, and shook him hard, making his head rock back and forth. "Aya, wake up, dammit!"

"Yoji!" Omi yelled.

"Lemme sleep... Yoji," Aya mumbled, sounding blurry. His eyelids flickered but didn't open. Still, Omi looked as relieved as Ken felt.

"Okay," Yoji said and carefully lowered him down to his pillow, brushing Aya's hair out of his face before taking his hands away. "Glad I didn't have to resort to a bucket of ice water.... See, guys? Not comatose. But he feels a bit warm."

"I thought so too," Ken said.

"Not burning up, just a bit too warm." Yoji must have meant it to reassure Omi, because he looked in the kid's direction, but Omi was already gone.

Omi returned with a wet washcloth and set it on Aya's forehead. "We don't know enough," Omi said. Aya sighed softly. Omi continued, "I don't think Kritiker knows much either."

"Or would tell us even if they did. If this keeps up, we might have to contact someone who does." Yoji had a look on his face Ken didn't like.

"We're not going to Schwarz for help!" Omi said.

"That's for sure," Ken said. "Are you nuts, Yoji?"

Yoji looked disturbed too but answered, "It might not be necessary, but what if Aya has problems? We all know jack shit."

"Maybe you spent too much time with Schuldig," Omi muttered.

"He didn't do anything to me!" Yoji protested, but something was off. Schuldig had done _something_.

"Aya would rather die than ask them for help."

"What if it really comes to that?"

"It won't!"

"We don't have to think about that yet," Ken said, feeling like the only reasonable person in the room. "Let's see how he's doing tonight, okay?"

  


* * *

Aya woke in darkness with something cold and clammy on his face. Confused, he stayed very still and tried to figure out what had happened. It felt like his bed. The sheets still smelled like his female self. A little more reassured, he reached for the damp object and felt a washcloth. He took it away, then turned on the light.

He hadn't changed again. Everything was where it should be, and he didn't have breasts anymore. Despite the badly chipped polish on the nails, the hand in front of his face couldn't be mistaken for a woman's. He was happy to be back, he told himself.

Still, his current circumstances confused him. It seemed to be night, suggesting that he'd barely slept at all, yet none of the others were in their bunks. He put a robe on and looked for them, still walking a bit awkwardly, to his annoyance. To his relief, he heard their voices drifting out of the kitchen. When he entered the room they looked far too happy to see him. Something had to be wrong.

"You're awake!" Ken exclaimed.

Aya frowned. He was, indeed, awake. It had never been a cause for celebration before.

Omi must have sensed his confusion, because he said quietly, "You slept all day. We were starting to worry."

He shook his head in automatic denial. "I couldn't have--"

"You did," Yoji said, with little sympathy. "It's Thursday evening. Welcome back to the land of the living."

Aya sat down hard at the kitchen table. Omi immediately began to hover. "Are you okay? Would you like some tea? Some food? You're probably starving, you slept so long--"

"I'm fine," Aya said, staring blankly ahead. And then there wasn't much else to say, so he didn't say anything. He felt movement, heard cabinets opening and closing behind him, a kettle being put on the stove. It all seemed very distant.

He'd slept all _day_?

After a moment Yoji slid into the chair across from him. "Are you okay?" Yoji asked quietly.

"I'm _fine_," Aya said again. Their concern was starting to irritate him. "What happened?"

Yoji had a funny little smile on his face. It almost made Aya nervous. "You refused to wake up. I covered your shift. You owe me."

"I'm stunned."

"It was a sacrifice, but I forbore."

"Did Ken?"

Yoji grinned. "What exactly are you implying?"

It was so easy to slip back into the easy banter, to forget how abnormal he truly was. Earlier that night-- no, _last_ night-- he had walked through walls and falling debris to get himself and Omi to safety. Today Yoji had covered his shift in the flower shop.

"Thank you," he said abruptly, and decided it was worth it for the shocked look on Yoji's face. A cup of tea was placed in front of him, and he sipped it gratefully. That helped too.

Omi sat down and said, "I suppose it was a side effect of... whatever it is you do. It must take a physical toll."

Ken looked thoughtful. "Do you remember if it happened before? After Schreient, or the citadel?"

Aya shook his head, impatient. "That couldn't have been my doing. I would have known--"

"The same way you knew about the 'partner' Kritiker thought you had?" Omi asked. Sweet, innocent, scarily perceptive Omi.

Maybe he should listen to Omi. He clearly couldn't trust his own memories.

Omi could be helpful. "Omi, I was wondering if you could look up a term for me. 'Biokinetic' or maybe 'biokinesis'?"

"That sounds familiar," Yoji said.

"One of the things Schuldig made you forget?"

Omi and Ken stared at Yoji, who protested, "Let's see how well you guys do against a master telepath!"

So Schuldig had mentioned it to both of them, which either made it a true lead or a bid for misdirection.

"Do we have a mission tonight?" Aya asked. He felt energized and would appreciate an outlet for it.

"Nope," Omi answered. "Maybe Manx told them we deserved a break, considering what happened yesterday." Omi looked at him, then mouthed, "Disappointed?"

Aya just closed his eyes, having no idea what he would do with himself. "Can I have some privacy to call my sister?" Aya-chan had to know that he'd successfully returned to his true form. She'd be so pleased....

"Sure," Ken said as he dragged Yoji away. Omi stood to follow.

Aya's hand passed through the phone as he reached to pick it up, and the sight sent a chill through him. He'd felt less stable, less _real_, since he'd returned to consciousness after his walk through the falling building and found out what he could do. Where once he'd been stuck in one form or another, now he felt like he could easily slide at any time, with no warning. He'd nearly slipped back from remembering how thrilled Aya had been to have a sister, and thinking about Yukio had triggered a near change to woman form that he'd stopped at the last moment. It frightened him, but what could he do except work hard at self-control?

Feeling eyes staring at his back, Aya turned to see Omi watching him with concern. Damn. At least only Omi had remained to see it. Aya very deliberately picked up the phone and saluted him with it.

"Aya--"

"I only need some practice. You have to expect some trouble at the beginning."

Omi approached and put his hand on Aya's arm. It didn't sink through. "If you have any problems, tell us, okay? I mean it. I don't want you or any of the rest of us getting hurt because you're too proud." In that moment he looked very adult.

Perhaps Aya could bribe him with more information. "I think I know why I turned female."

Omi almost vibrated at that, like a hunting dog on the scent of prey. "You do?" Then he asked, "You're gonna tell me, right? You couldn't be cruel enough to say that and then walk off."

He could but didn't intend to. "This is what I think. I changed to a woman _now_ because we returned to Tokyo. I could avoid my sister for her own good easier when somewhere across Japan from her. In town... in a place I considered something almost like a home... I had fewer excuses to place as walls in front of my desire to see her. I was aware that she was nearby and possibly hurt by our estrangement. All I had to do was see her, but I didn't dare."

Omi nodded. "You were under stress, and being under battle conditions made it worse. Under stress, thinking of your sister, you... flipped."

Schuldig had actually been helpful. The world must be ending. "I believe so. And the longer I was a woman, the more it self-perpetuated. I became accustomed to not being able to turn back, especially since I had no idea why it had happened to begin with."

"Then you started to enjoy being a woman a little bit."

Aya couldn't let him think that, even if it were partially true. "I didn't. The rest of you had far more fun with it than I did."

"Sure."

"You don't seem very convincing."

"Maybe because I'm not convinced."

"I have to call my sister."

"It's better than dealing with the truth?"

"Always. I'm talking to my sister now."

"Sure, Aya."

"Please take that look off your face."

"Sure, Aya." Omi left the room with that look intact.

He called her at home and reached Mrs. Tomoe. "It's Ran. Can I speak with my sister, please?"

From how quickly she picked up at her end, she might have run and yanked the phone out of her guardian's hand. "Ran! Talk to me! Boy?"

"Yes."

"I knew it! You wouldn't call here if you were still my sister. What happened?"

He wondered if the Tomoes were listening. "I figured out what had gone wrong and fixed it."

"That's all the detail I get?"

He remembered his terror as the room caved in around him and Omi. "Yes. It had some scary moments, but it's over now."

"Will it happen again?"

"I'm learning how to control it."

"You did it to yourself somehow? I should be more surprised."

"But you're not."

"Nope."

"What you must think of me."

"I think of you often." She sounded so affectionate that he couldn't be too angry that she apparently considered him to be very strange. "Will you be back soon?"

"It depends on how work goes."

She sighed. "I understand."

"So how has school been?"

  


* * *

Omi curled up in his bunk and tried to sleep, but he understood too well the kind of nervous energy that demanded a mission to exorcise it because he felt it too right now. A mission made it hard to brood on your own thoughts. Aya wanted to be distracted. Omi could relate.

Ken and Yoji probably figured that Aya's return to his true form had ended their problems, but Omi knew that yesterday's events had just started a new set of difficulties for Aya and them. Of the three of them, he was the one who had the closest idea of what Aya was going through, what it felt like. He still shivered at the memory of that walk, the dust and confusion, Aya being the only thing in the world he could feel.... Aya would need support, and Omi had to be up to the responsibility.

  


* * *

As Aya walked, he basked in the sun and his solitude. No chaperones, no guards. He was himself, male, and away from everyone, out somewhere unknown, and just in time. All of the enforced togetherness had been making him homicidal.

Aya saw Schuldig coming at him at the last minute... and watched him walk right through him and hit a wall. Aya didn't feel it at all.

Schuldig had found them. It hadn't taken him long, either.

"Very funny," Schuldig said. Blood was running down the side of his face from a scrape at his temple. He impatiently wiped it away with his fingers.

Aya went into a fighting stance and backed into an empty alley to get them away from bystanders. He didn't want to have people get in his way. "Actually, that _was_ amusing."

Schuldig followed, _not_ in an attack stance. He hadn't drawn his gun either. "But you didn't do it on purpose. Not good."

"It worked out."

"You need help."

"I need to be able to walk around without being attacked."

"I can help."

"True. You can stop attacking me."

"Nah, with training you."

The offer shocked Aya. "You don't do what I do."

"Certain mental exercises work for all of them. You probably think you'll turn off your emotions and everything will be fine. Wrong!" Schuldig smirked. "You feel what you feel even when you don't want to. Trying to clamp down on that would give you _less_ control. It's what you do with the emotions that counts."

"Why the hell would you 'help' me except to fuck me over more?"

"Boredom."

"Wonderful."

"I wanna see if it's possible to train a talent without abusing the shit out of the person who owns it. I got the abuse training and look how I turned out," Schuldig beamed, "but I bet I can do better. Besides, I want to see how you end up."

"So, then, what tips would you give me?"

"Focus. Practice. Try to be clear about what you want. Deluding yourself will bite you in the ass every time by skewing your results. And there's something you really need to work on."

"What would that be?"

Schuldig backed him up against a wall, and Aya felt himself start to slide through it. "No, you don't wanna do that," Schuldig said, with his fingers _in_ Aya's face. He pulled them out. "Huh. I could almost feel something."

Since he didn't know where he'd end up if he kept going, Aya moved forward and solidified, then shivered and felt the change vertigo as Schuldig's hand lightly stroked his cheek. He fought to stay himself. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Your entire sexual experience has been as a woman. You might not want to change into one mid-snog."

"That wasn't the sum total of my sexual experience."

"Oh, sorry, your entire sexual experience that had _other people involved_ has been as a woman. It takes a certain perversity to go out and lose your virginity when you're not your usual gender. I applaud you."

Lying about his experience level to a telepath would be useless. "You're going to train me with sex? I don't need you."

"Sure, you could always try this with someone else. Maybe Kudou has figured out his sexuality _and_ wouldn't freak out if you became a woman or phased through something in the middle. And I'm sure that Omi would take this as an experiment and you wouldn't be leading him on for a second."

Actually, Aya thought that maybe he'd just swear off sex. It kept getting him and the people around him in trouble. "I don't want you."

"Sorry to tell you this, Aya, but since you're a man again it's obvious when you want me."

"As you said yourself, feeling and action are different things. My cock doesn't have a brain. I do."

Schuldig pressed him against the wall and kissed him thoroughly. He smelled so different from Yoji, even despite the mutual stench of cigarette smoke. Yoji smelled of cologne and styling products, civilization. Schuldig's scent was somehow electric--a by-product of his telepathy?--and... wilder. Aya couldn't describe it better.

Under the press of Schuldig's body and insistent but gentle mouth and hands, Aya went harder. He hadn't expected the gentleness and found it disquieting.

"If you miss the coercion, I can go back to that," Schuldig murmured, before nuzzling at his neck.

He didn't want this. His false woman form had been the one that had no control.

Cocks aligned, they rocked against one another. Even with his eyes closed, it didn't stop being Schuldig doing this to him. Desperately aroused and bemused by how different it felt in his real form, Aya struggled to keep his thoughts and self together, concentrating so hard that resistance didn't seem possible. The sensations and Schuldig were so distracting... but so good. He fought the vertigo of the change. Schuldig's hair, as light and fine as spiderweb, caressed his face. Yoji and Yukio's hair had been thicker and softer....

"You should do something back, Aya."

Somewhat amused, Aya answered, "That would make this sex instead of a test."

"It's easier to maintain yourself if all you're doing is lying back and concentrating with your eyes closed. If you can maintain while working on something else at the same time, then you know you have it."

"You're transparent."

"Nope, you are."

"I've never been transparent. Intangible, but never transparent." But Schuldig had a point, damn him.

At some point Aya had decided to go along with this and risk being killed. He didn't know when he'd decided that.

Aya opened his eyes to a vividly colored world of Schuldig, since he couldn't see much around him with him so close, and ran his hands down Schuldig's back and ass. Schuldig made a soft, deep sound and thrust against him harder, rubbing him against the wall. He came hard at the sharp pain of a bite at the base of his neck where it met his shoulder and lost track of everything in the rush of orgasm.

When he could think again, he noticed that only the wall and Schuldig kept him on his feet. Schuldig stroked the longer hair around his face and said, "You only flickered a few times. Not bad. Meanwhile, I have a new fetish, but where the hell am I going to find the right man-woman for it? You've ruined me." Then Schuldig let him go. He slid down the wall to hit the ground on his ass, but at this point he barely felt it. "I suggest lots of practice, Aya." Schuldig kissed his fingers, pressed them to the top of Aya's head, and walked away.

Dazed, sticky, uncomfortable, buzzing with endorphins, Aya realized that he'd just lost his virginity as a man to his worst enemy in an alley. He really was perverse. Right now, he couldn't feel upset about it.

That might change later.

Or right now, as the full magnitude of what he'd done and allowed to be done to him hit him. He put his hand over his eyes.

  


* * *

As much as it made him feel ridiculous to do it, Yoji worried, even though Aya hadn't even been gone long enough to suggest that something had happened to him. Just a few hours.

Aya was a big boy again, and they were in a new city in which they hadn't been operating in long enough to build up a list of people who wanted them dead. He knew that Aya craved solitude like junkies needed a fix and deserved something comforting after recent events. Hell, Aya had been so obviously desperate for some alone time that they'd all told him to just go, that they could cover the business without him.

Yoji worried anyway. He had a bad feeling about something, and it shivered along his skin. Darkness was falling....

Yoji slipped into the trailer before Ken or Omi could make him help close up for the night. He had more important things on his mind. Lost in thought, he walked into the bunk area and took off his apron.

There, lying on his pillow, was a single orange tiger lily.

Yoji froze, staring at it, then sat down heavily on Aya's bunk across from his. He fumbled for his cigarettes, lit one, and inhaled deeply. For once the nicotine didn't relax him; if anything, it made him feel more jittery.

Schuldig had been here, here inside their home, here inside their bedroom. And he knew. Knew what Yoji had been dreaming about, knew how hard he had come just from the thought of being... fucked... by Schuldig.

Probably knew every perverse thought in his head. Was probably listening in right now and laughing his evil ass off.

Yoji's brain, undisciplined to the last, flashed a series of increasingly graphic images before his eyes, himself and Schuldig in seriously compromising positions. The harder he tried to banish the thoughts, the more persistent they became. The tiger lily loomed stubbornly in his vision, mocking him.

Omi burst in. "Hey, have you seen my-- what are you doing?"

Yoji didn't answer. Omi said, sounding irritated, "I thought you agreed not to smoke in the bedroom."

"Yeah," Yoji said absently, pinching out the cigarette between his fingers. He barely felt the burn. "Sorry. My bad."

He stood, brushing past Omi and out the door, and a moment later he heard the kid hurrying after him. "Hey, where are you going? Yoji-- Yoji, you shouldn't go out on your own! We only agreed to let Aya go because he was going crazy. It's not a good idea to have you both out there wandering around!"

That was a laugh. 'Going' crazy? They'd both arrived.

"It doesn't matter," he said, and was pleased at how offhand his voice sounded. Unconcerned. "Schuldig's been here."

"He _what_?"

Yoji stepped into the cool night air and let the door slam shut behind him.

Omi burst outside just as he slid into the driver's seat. "Yoji! Wait! Let me come with you!"

He turned the key, backed out, and sped off into the night, leaving Omi yelling after him.

Yoji stared grimly at the road in front of him, barely even seeing it. Under his breath, he muttered, "You want me, you bastard, come and get me."

The voice in his head came as no surprise at all. ~ Thought you'd never ask. ~

A red sports car pulled up behind him and kept pace.

Yoji led it to a well-lit and populated area, then parked and stepped out. It would have been nice if he had a clue to what he intended to do here, but he didn't. He just wanted it to stop and hoped this little showdown would accomplish something.

Schuldig and Farfarello stepped out of the sports car. Shit. "What's up with him tagging along?" Yoji asked, hoping that bravado would carry him through.

"Schuldig likes to go riding with me," Farfarello purred.

"I didn't mean-- Why am I bothering?"

"I ask myself that all the time." Schuldig smiled. "Farfarello got a little curious about my new hobby. I decided to give him the tour."

"I don't do--"

"Threesomes? I know better."

Schuldig wanted him to get upset and stupid.

~ 'Get' stupid? You're so blind, Kudou. ~

"Get out of my head."

"Oh, make me. You can't do shit to me. Look at your crowd here."

Yoji did look. None of them seemed to notice him or the two members of Schwarz in their midst. His half-assed plan to minimize the possibility of carnage had failed.

"I'm a telepath, you moron. They see what I let them see. Everyone around me does. Didn't you know that you're defenseless against me? Pay attention. If I wanted, you and Farf would be making sweet, sweet love right now. Oh, he might be willing, he might not-- depends on the day of the week-- but in the end, you'd both do it, just the same."

Yoji stared at Farfarello. Farfarello smiled and darted his tongue out to lap at the end of his stiletto, seemingly unconcerned by his teammate's implied threats.

"Tonight," Schuldig said, in response to Yoji's unspoken question, "he seems to be all for it."

"I know," Yoji said, and was pleased to hear the evenness of his voice. He knew. Not that Farfarello was in the mood-- a thought that made him shudder-- but that he couldn't fight Schuldig, that he never really could.

Schuldig smiled, clearly satisfied by this train of thought. "So what is it you want, Kudou?"

"I want this to end."

"To stop having dreams about--" Schuldig smirked. "Well, we'll just say 'men', for diplomacy's sake? To keep your vaunted heterosexuality from falling to pieces around you in a blazing wreck like the Fujimiya family home did? To stop thinking that all you _really_ want is to be held down and fucked like a woman? Sorry, you're on your own there."

Farfarello sniggered. Yoji tried to ignore the hot rush of shame that flooded through him.

"That's _not_ me," he spat. "You're doing something to me, making-- making me want it." Making him dream....

Schuldig looked smug. "It'd be nice if that were true, wouldn't it? So easy to blame me for all your problems. Well, I haven't touched a thing in your brain. All your fantasies are yours alone. If I were involved, they'd be a lot more interesting." He took a step closer. "Though if you're up for it, I wouldn't mind making those dreams a reality."

"It can't be," Yoji said, ignoring the sudden sick certainty in his gut. "I could never want--"

"Me? Or Aya?" Schuldig rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Aya, me, me, Aya. I can see where you'd have trouble deciding. He's awfully tempting. But then again-- so am I."

Schuldig smiled. His voice lowered to a purr. "Of course... you don't _have_ to choose."

Yoji raised his chin defiantly, pushing aside the memory of his dream, ignoring the way _that voice_ slid inside him and made him want things. "Aya would never do it," he said, and he realized too late what it implied-- that he would.

"He wouldn't, would he?" Schuldig murmured.

"Not anymore," Yoji said, taking a nervous step back. When had Schuldig and Farfarello come so close? When had he turned his back to the wall, instead of the street? "He's male again, in case you didn't know, so he's not vulnerable to you anymore. Sorry if that ruins your plans--"

Almost before the words had left his mouth, he was hit by a mental image so powerful, so vivid, it took his breath away. He had Aya pinned against a wall and was sensuously rubbing against him with his whole body as they kissed hungrily. Panting, hard, Aya had his eyes closed, a flush across his cheeks, and a look of deep concentration and pleasure on his face. Then he opened his eyes, which blazed with lust, lust Yoji could feel along with his own. Aya stroked Yoji's back and ass, and he answered with a hard bite to Aya's neck. Aya came, and he came but he wasn't him, he was Schuldig....

And then he felt his own back pressed against the wall. He closed his eyes, but he couldn't block out the sensations, the echoing lust, the desperate need and abandon on Aya's face--

A voice next to his ear whispered, "He's very accommodating if you don't change your mind on him right in the middle of it. But you know that. A shame you didn't follow up on it more than once."

Yoji's eyes flew open. He stared at Schuldig in dismay.

Distantly he felt a thin, muscled arm slip over his shoulders, and then Farfarello's low, raspy voice asked, "Can I play too?"

Yoji jerked away instinctively and found himself in Schuldig's arms. He was sandwiched between them, caught between the two of them and the wall-- a rock and a hard place, he thought wildly, and I know which one's hard-- with no clear route to safety. Cold fear clenched his stomach into a fist.

He covered with a toss of his head and stepped away deliberately, still with his back to the wall, but this way at least he could watch both of them. "Damn," he said, with a practiced sneer. "You're just determined to get a threesome tonight, aren't you?"

The smirk refused to die. "Hey, I'm not the one dreaming about it." Schuldig paused. "Actually--"

"What do you _want_?" Yoji demanded, his patience snapping.

Schuldig said simply, "This."

It sounded like a setup, but no punch line was forthcoming. Yoji asked warily, "This what?"

Schuldig spread his hands. "This, here. You being so conflicted, so torn up inside, wanting things you know are wrong, yet unable to stop." His eyelids lowered to half-mast, and Yoji felt a shiver run through him as Schuldig's voice in his head murmured, ~ It's like a drug. ~

And as he watched, helpless, Schuldig slid an arm around Farfarello and pulled him close, saying, "Fine. You don't like Farfie? I can work with that."

And then it wasn't Farfarello Schuldig was kissing, it was Aya, regular male Aya, and no matter how many times Yoji told himself it was just a trick, just another mind game, the illusion persisted. It was Aya digging his fingers into Schuldig's back, Aya biting down hard on Schuldig's lower lip, Aya making Schuldig moan....

They were so close Yoji could feel their body heat. If he inhaled deeply enough he'd be touching them. And then he'd probably join in, and God and Crawford only knew what would happen next.

He tensed, thinking that if he could just get his wire out, he'd end this _now_, and without warning Schuldig's hand shot out and caught his wrist in a crushing grip.

Telepath. Right.

Yoji gritted his teeth together as Schuldig pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand. Schuldig's saliva was streaked with blood.

Schuldig said, "He plays rough, but oh, how he plays. Whaddya say, Kudou?"

Yoji stared at Aya-- at _Farfarello_, he reminded himself. Farfarello watched him dispassionately, licking smears of blood from his lips. Watching him do it with Aya's face and body, wearing Aya's clothes, seemed so delightfully obscene....

Mouth dry, he asked, "What if I say no?"

Schuldig shrugged. "Then you go back to your little trailer all alone and live to angst another day. What did you expect? I'm not going to force you to do anything... yet." He smiled, catlike. "Right now, what you _choose_ to do is far more interesting."

Yoji gave the faux Aya one last head-to-toe inspection, drinking in the sight, and then jerked his head towards Farfarello and said, "Get rid of that."

It wasn't Aya; it didn't even look like him, really. They were Aya's features, but Farfarello's quiet, expressionless menace sat ill on a face made for scowls and bad tempers and frustrated brooding. The real Aya burned with passion, however much he tried to hide it. Even at his lowest ebb, he smoldered. This Aya looked dead inside.

He wondered what this Aya would look like when Farfarello was in a killing rage.

Schuldig snorted. "_Scheiße_, have you got it bad."

"Shut up," Yoji said, still staring at Farfarello. He thought he saw Ay-- Farfarello's lips twitch, and then Farfarello's left eye closed in a wink.

Farfarello didn't have a left eye.

Yoji blinked, startled, and then the illusion was gone and Farfarello was watching him with detached, almost polite interest.

"Move," Yoji said.

Schuldig stepped aside with a mocking bow. "And he chooses sexual frustration and self-flagellation. Big surprise." He smiled. "You know, of all you Weiß boys, I never figured Aya for the slut of the group. You've lost your ranking, Kudou. How's it feel to know I got to male _and_ female Aya first? Oh, wait-- don't bother answering. I know exactly how it feels."

Yoji gritted his teeth as he stepped past them. His back felt unbearably exposed.

Behind him, Schuldig called, "I'll give him your regards!"

Yoji spun around, whipping the wire out of his watch without conscious forethought, arcing it through the air towards Schuldig. He caught a brief glimpse of Schuldig's startled face, and then something barreled into his side, knocking him to the ground.

It was Farfarello, of course, and Yoji's heart leapt into his throat because now Farfarello _was_ in a killing rage, and Yoji knew from experience that without outside intervention, nothing short of death would put him off. Yoji struggled desperately but Farfarello had the upper hand; Farfarello was on top of him, pinning him down, and then he saw a flash of white as Farfarello bared his teeth and dove for Yoji's jugular--

Yoji threw himself aside at the last second, as much as he could with a full-grown man sitting on top of him, and Farfarello's teeth sank into his shoulder instead. A blaze of pain shot through his right arm, paralyzing it. Yoji managed to wrap his free hand around his opponent's throat and squeeze, but Farfarello didn't even seem to notice; he just continued gnawing happily.

Then, abruptly, Farfarello stopped, and Yoji didn't hesitate. He threw him off immediately and stood, panting. Blood flowed freely from his shoulder.

Schuldig was watching them with a detached smirk, but for once Yoji could see the act for what it was. Schuldig had called Farfarello off, for whatever reason, but he wasn't happy about it. In fact, he was seething.

Then Schuldig met his eyes, and the voice in his head growled, ~ A remarkably accurate assessment. ~

Yoji gazed back levelly. "Go ahead and kill me," he said. "It's the only way you'll have me-- over my dead body."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Farfarello rising to his feet, and he braced himself.

"How clever," Schuldig murmured. The wire had grazed his cheek and blood trickled from a thin, almost elegant-looking cut. He already had a scab along his temple from some recent, earlier injury. Seeing him wounded was unsettling in its rarity. "You run home to Abyssinian, now." He paused. "I'm giving you an opportunity to live. I suggest you take it."

"Why?" Yoji asked, knowing he shouldn't bother, knowing he should just take his chance and run like hell.

Schuldig shrugged carelessly. The fury seemed to have passed, leaving Schuldig his usual, only semi-deadly self. "No real reason. I just want to see how this ends."

Yoji thought, deliberately loud, _I just want it to end._

Schuldig smirked.

Heart pounding, aroused and hard, Yoji walked past them at a slow, steady pace, still refusing to run, and felt their stares on his back. He felt their stares even as he drove away. At least he didn't 'hear' Schuldig during his ride home. His mind was jumbled and cluttered enough on its own.

When he walked into the bedroom, he pulled the privacy curtain aside and saw Aya lying in his bunk, peacefully asleep and safe, and flashed on Aya writhing against him/Schuldig in an alley. Not quite safe. After putting the curtain back as it had been, Yoji went into the bathroom and jerked off as roughly and quickly as he could, but he couldn't outrace the shame.

  


* * *

Aya was a woman again, getting fucked by Yoji, his hands bound together at the wrists and to the headboard by Yoji's wire. On fire with lust, moaning, he wrapped his legs around Yoji's waist and pulled him in deeper. That waist changed, and Yukio smiled down at him as she fucked him harder. The wire had disappeared, but he held his hands up and together without it. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. A large hand closed over his wrists. When he opened his eyes he saw Schuldig thrusting into him. The telepath smiled and said, "I always thought you'd be a slut if you got the chance."

Aya awoke in his bunk confused, disquieted, and still male. And lying in a large wet spot. This had to stop eventually or at least taper off. Was it Schuldig or his own evil, slutty mind at work here? Still dreaming of himself as a woman....

He didn't know anything anymore.

Aya heard movement at the edge of his bunk. Yoji pulled the privacy curtain aside and asked softly, "Could you keep it down? Some of us don't have good sex dreams or partners to distract us."

"I'm awake now."

"Me too. Wanna take this to the kitchen?"

"You go ahead. I have some things to take care of first." Like the sheets and himself, both wet and reeking of sex.

Aya could almost feel Yoji smirk. "Sure, Aya."

  


* * *

When Aya sat down at the small table, Yoji handed him a cup of tea. He nursed it in silence, lost in wondering what the hell was happening to him, until Yoji finally asked, "What, because we slept together you're never going to speak to me again?"

"I never spoke to you much before I was a woman. And we never once 'slept together'."

Yoji took on a long-suffering look and sighed. "You're so literal."

Aya felt the need to talk and hated it. "Yoji, I'm changing."

"No, really?"

"In more ways than you think. It feels... really good to use my abilities. Pleasurable. Even if they do tire me out a bit." They might be responsible for his ridiculously increased sex drive.

Scholar of sex that he was, Yoji seemed to take that thought all the way as well, even without Aya providing the last bit. "Being turned on a lot of the time doesn't sound bad to me."

Aya wondered if that been why he'd succumbed so easily to Schuldig's advances but refused to absolve himself of all responsibility. "I'm sure you remember my drunken confession."

Yoji grinned. "Nope. You told me to forget it." Infuriating.

"It's frustrating and distracting being like this."

"Congratulations, Aya. You're a guy."

"Very funny."

"There are ways to take care of yourself, by yourself and with other people. You're not ugly, after all."

"Thank you."

Yoji had been at once the best and worst person to share this with. Best because he had so much experience with sex and worst because he wouldn't take this confession seriously.

"I could help you out," Yoji said while trying too hard to look and sound casual.

Aya gaped at him in shock, then answered, "I'm not going to make myself into a woman just for you."

"I hadn't thought of that." But his eyes lit up.

"Don't think of it now, because it won't happen. In fact, none of it will happen, because I don't like the idea of you doing me as if you were throwing yourself on top of a grenade to save the rest of the team."

"That's not what I'm thinking."

"What _are_ you thinking?"

Yoji had _some_ ulterior motive. Aya could tell. He sat oddly too, almost scrunched in on himself. As if injured. And Yoji wore a shirt and shorts, when usually he slept as close to naked as he thought his teammates could stand. And Aya wasn't thinking of Yoji naked or remembering how Yoji would sometimes answer the door naked when they still had separate rooms above the flower shop.

This wasn't helping.

Aya stood and walked until he was behind him, then lightly put a hand on his shoulder. Yoji gasped in pain. Aya lifted his hand.

"What did you do to yourself?" Aya asked.

Yoji remained silent for a while, then said, "Farfarello fucking bit me."

So all of Schwarz had found them. "Schuldig visited me today." What fetish did Schwarz have about biting people?

Surely Yoji hadn't been bitten under the same circumstances Aya had.

Yoji looked surprised. "I can't believe you just came out and said that."

"He did. There's no point in hiding it. It strikes me that this invalidates our whole reason for being in Kanazawa. I think we should get Kritiker to relocate us back."

"Agreed."

  


* * *

Yoji turned to face Aya, still unable to believe that Aya had admitted to seeing Schuldig. Okay, he hadn't said that Schuldig had put the moves on him, just that he'd appeared, but still.

Aya had been his original self for about two days yet still looked _wrong_, which was funny since this was how he was supposed to look. Male and all. Harder, more angular. His body filled out a black T-shirt in different ways.

Yoji missed the woman, her voice, presence, and scent. It was like she'd died. Yoji always fell for the impossible women. Aya wasn't quite the person he'd been before, but neither was he the person he'd become as a woman. It confused the hell out of Yoji and made him wonder if maybe getting in close, sex, might bring traces of her back. Loosen Aya up, make him smile.

"You didn't answer my offer," Yoji said.

"Yes, I did. I told you that I didn't want charity. You'll have to martyr yourself some other way."

Yoji stood and pressed in close, feeling Aya's warmth all along his front. Aya looked at him with dark, worried eyes. Wanting him but not trusting him.

Yoji didn't feel any answering lust.

Yoji's body had responded easily enough to Schuldig but that had been him reacting. Schuldig had pressed up on him with obvious carnal intent, and his body had said 'hell, yes.' Aya needed to be pursued and coaxed. It took effort and gave Yoji time to think.

Aya's expression went blank, and the want died from his eyes, chilling them. "As I thought," he said, and turned away.

That would be it if Yoji didn't do something now. Schuldig would win, and Aya would lose and be lost. Yoji grabbed Aya's wrist and swung him in to kiss him before he could react and fight back. Slightly different mouth from hers, but similar kiss. Aya's movements and clutch were different but also similar. When Yoji ran his hand down Aya's back, Aya moved in a very familiar way.... Ignition. Yoji's body did an 'oh _yeah_,' and the lust was right where it should be.

Yoji had stood back with his dick in his hand and his thumb up his ass in indecision and confusion too long, letting Schuldig slide in swift and snake-supple to get there first every time and purr, "Been there, done that, you loser." Damned if Yoji didn't know the kind of phrases the snake would hiss and purr in Aya's ears. They don't understand you and never will. They're afraid of you. You're alone and always will be. You're a freak like me. By the time Schuldig got to Let me stick my hand down your pants, Aya probably figured that he might as well, unable to fight against the confusion, despair, and physical coercion. Yoji knew what a potent weapon that combination made for Schuldig.

With the way Yoji and Aya had been acting around one another, Schuldig barely had to do anything more than stir the pot a little once in a while to get a feast of angst and frustrated lust. Well, the bastard would have to work for his dinner from now on.

"You don't have to do this," Aya said softly. "Don't have to prove yourself, don't have to do this now."

Really? Yoji pulled him in closer, cupped his ass, and kissed harder, more demandingly. Aya groaned.

"Unless you want to...." Aya murmured against his lips.

"Yeah. I want to." Yoji backed him out of the kitchen and to the couch.

When the back of Aya's legs hit the couch, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"We're here. I didn't want to get it on in the kitchen."

"But the bathroom was fine?"

"Yeah."

Aya had that familiar 'I don't understand you _at all_ and I'm not sure I want to' look on his face, and it was like coming home. Yoji would do it _right_ this time. For one thing, they'd both be undressed at the same time. Him getting his clothes off for once would be a very good idea. He pulled his shirt off over his head and drank in the concern in Aya's eyes at the sight of the gauze bandage taped to his shoulder, then he pulled down his shorts and kicked them away. Aya's eyes flickered down to see, then he looked up at Yoji from under his lashes. Was that flirtation from the ice king? Looked like it.

Yoji went back to kissing him and put one hand up the back of his shirt and the other in his hair. For some reason, he'd expected the hair to feel different now, not as soft or something, but it didn't, which actually made more sense since Aya had used the same shampoo for the past few years, something tea-scented, even as a woman. But his body had different dimensions, different strengths, and the thought that Aya could hurt him badly did scary things to his lust. They humped one another, and feeling Aya's hard, covered cock rub against his naked one was a thrill. No way Aya could deny this, not with the evidence right here.

Aya pulled away for a moment to pull his T-shirt off, putting them skin to skin and closer to where they should be. Yoji looked away from the love bite on Aya's neck, which looked totally unlike the gnaw marks on his own shoulder. Yoji set his mind to other things, like seeing whether Aya still liked to have his nipples played with. Yes, he definitely did, but he seemed to be biting back any sounds of enjoyment.

"C'mon, be as loud as you like," Yoji breathed into his ear.

Aya understandably looked very distracted by Yoji's fingers pinching his nipples. "Ken and Omi--"

"Fuck 'em."

"Not right now."

Yoji hooked a finger into Aya's waistband and smiled at the deep breath he took in response. "It's hotter with them close by. Admit it."

"I'm not letting this turn into a foursome."

That made Yoji squirm, but he covered it with a flip "Don't knock it until you've tried it." He pulled the waistband away and then let it snap back against Aya's hip.

They were both thinking too much. Time to get the next bit over with and go on to the main event. Yoji pulled Aya's boxers all the way down and took a look.

Well.

Nothing he hadn't seen before in some form. Before he could freak out or Aya could realize that he was freaking out, Yoji pulled him in close again, and feeling Aya hot and wet against his bare skin made everything almost all right again. Aya groaned softly and humped him, which made everything actually all right again. Then Aya tackled him down to the lumpy couch and covered him, which made thinking about wrong and right impossible.

Once Aya had his mouth around Yoji's cock, any considerations beyond what was going on that moment were blown out of Yoji's mind. So to speak. The wildness _hadn't_ just been the woman. The soft red hair brushing his abs and thighs made him shiver. Very strong hands held down Yoji's hips and stopped him from really fucking Aya's mouth--with that strength being a turn-on by itself--but, hell, he definitely couldn't complain through an enthusiastic blowjob. Besides, Aya didn't seem to mind getting his hair pulled.

Aya did something to the underside of Yoji's cock with his tongue that made Yoji see stars and almost choke Aya with his sudden thrust forward and orgasm. "Fuck, I'm sorry," Yoji gasped through his afterglow. As much as he enjoyed his full-body tingle, he worried about Aya's coughing.

Aya nodded his head. Yoji had to make it up to him. When Aya recovered more, Yoji kissed him and smiled at the taste of himself on Aya's lips. He ran his hand down Aya's stomach and clasped Aya's hard cock in a firm grip. The angle might be different, but he knew what to do here and wondered if Aya would like it hard and fast, the way he did.

From the way that he gasped, "Yoji...." with such desperation and thrust forward into Yoji's moving fist, it seemed that Aya did. It amazed him to have the ice king afire with lust, calling his name, and writhing against him.

"Come for me, Aya," Yoji said, and he _did_, right on command, with a hoarse yell.

Mussed, very touchable, Aya was breathing hard and tangled with him, still rocking a little, looking unlike his usual ice king self. By contrast, Yoji didn't feel any different than he did after any bout of good sex, which was a bit anticlimactic. He mentally smacked himself around for being disappointed that he hadn't shattered his self-image or ego with a few homosexual acts.

Aya twitched. "We can't stay like this." Yet he didn't move.

"What? Twined together naked, blatantly post-sex, on the couch in the open where even our youngest and most innocent member can see us?"

"I'll dispute 'most innocent', but otherwise that's a good summary."

"But?"

"I don't really feel like moving."

Score! Yoji grabbed his arm to make sure he couldn't escape. "This is your afterglow. Enjoy it."

This felt too comfy for Aya to ruin it by being responsible, so Yoji reinforced Aya's urge to stay by lightly stroking his hair and back. At least he hoped it reinforced it. Since Aya didn't leave, just sighed and settled in, it must have worked.

Feeling very self-satisfied, Yoji drifted off to sleep.

  


* * *

He hadn't changed mid-sex, he felt great, and Yoji hadn't freaked out, so this could be counted a success. Having sex as himself with somebody he didn't loathe had to be a sign of increased mental health. So why did he have such a feeling of foreboding?

Maybe he couldn't let himself be happy. Maybe life had taught him that people never lasted. Maybe he had no trust left in him.

He should get up, put a blanket over Yoji, and go to his own bunk to spare Omi's eyes and feelings in the morning, but instead he clutched at Yoji and snuggled in closer.


	8. Chapter 8

Yoji woke up when something hit him in the face. From under a soft fuzzy layer of something he heard Ken say, "You're lucky Omi didn't come out first."

"Thanks, Ken," Yoji answered, and Ken grumbled something Yoji was probably better off not really hearing.

The blanket just made things comfier, especially with Aya making a surprisingly pleasant armful and looking so cute while asleep. Yoji hadn't thought he could possibly wake up before Aya, but sleeping so well after the sex might have helped. He always slept better if he had company. They had their own little world under the blanket....

"Yoji?" Aya asked sleepily, his head resting on Yoji's chest and eyes still half-closed, very cute.

Yoji was hard and getting harder. Straight really wasn't what it used to be. "Yep."

"Blanket."

"Hunh?"

"On us. How?"

"Ken brought it."

This was rich. He'd always figured that Aya woke up entirely awake, sharp and eager to get going. Unless today was unusual, it looked like Aya's brain actually took longer to restart in the morning than the rest of him. The possibilities for torment were endless....

Aya's eyes opened further, and sense returned to them. Too soon. "We have to tell Omi and Ken about yesterday's visitations and see if they're willing to back us on being reassigned to Tokyo."

"They'll be willing. And we have time." Yoji ran his hand up and down the curves of Aya's ass.

"This isn't the time," Aya said, but he sounded a little breathless.

"Make time."

Omi sighed loudly. "At least you're under a blanket."

Kid had _lousy_ timing. Yoji poked his head out from under the blanket and said, "If you don't want to see anything, go to the kitchen."

"No," Aya said as he poked his own head out. "We need to shower and get started. Omi, we have some important Weiß-related information to share."

"Call a meeting?" Omi asked.

"Once we're presentable."

"I hate you," Yoji said to Omi.

Omi just smiled.

  


* * *

Aya didn't even let Yoji shower with him, which might have made them 'presentable' faster but still felt unfair.

They had their meeting in the kitchen. Omi looked expectant when he wasn't shooting dirty looks at Yoji, while Ken sat backward on one of the chairs with his 'talk to me' expression on. Yoji leaned against the table and gestured to Aya to start. It was interesting watching Aya move knowing exactly what that felt like under his hands, against his body....

Aya crossed his arms and said, "Schwarz found us. Schuldig paid me a personal visit, while Farfarello took a small chunk out of Yoji's shoulder."

"Way to break it gently, Aya," Yoji said with a smirk, "and it wasn't a chunk." He didn't correct Aya on the number of visitors he'd gotten, preferring Aya to remain ignorant of Schuldig's insinuations where possible.

Omi looked thoughtful. "That explains--"

"What?" Yoji asked, seeing badness incoming.

"Nothing." But just as Yoji started to breathe easier, Omi said, "Schuldig left something on Yoji's bed."

Shit.

Ken yelled, "What?"

Aya raised an eyebrow at Yoji, who said quickly, "It didn't directly relate to our conversation at the time."

"Like hell," Aya replied. "What was it?"

"A tiger lily," Yoji answered, knowing that Aya wouldn't understand the true significance.

From the confused look on Aya's face, it seemed that he didn't. "Wonderful. He's leaving little gifts inside the trailer now. Since we're only here to try to avoid this sort of thing, I want to talk to Kritiker about bringing us back to Tokyo."

"I'm all for it," Ken said.

"Omi, I know you have school...."

"It doesn't matter. Really. It's not like I can ever let the other students get to know me or hang out with them." Omi sounded offhand about it. "I'd like to go back to Tokyo."

They stared at him. Yoji had never thought about what Omi's life had been like, had actually tried not to. At least the rest of them had had normal lives before tragedy struck in their late teens or early twenties. Omi had lived in and been shaped by Weiß's world of lies and killing since he was very young.

Actually, Yoji and Ken stared. Aya looked unsurprised as he asked, "We're decided?"

"Yeah. Let's call them," Omi said.

"What if they won't even consider it?" Ken asked.

"Then maybe we should break away from them," Yoji answered.

Omi and Ken stared at him. Looking incredulous, Aya asked, "You do remember that we were ordered to hunt Omi and Ken down just because they refused to execute one of Kritiker's kill orders? Desertion wouldn't get a better reaction."

"That wasn't really Kritiker talking." Yoji knew better than to trust in Kritiker's kindness and loving care, but he hated the feeling of having no options, so he forged forward anyway.

"For a while we thought it was, and it wasn't a reach."

"You said once that you didn't want to live underground," Ken said.

Yoji shook his head in frustration, but Aya said, "It's something to consider." This thing with Schuldig must have really upset him. "We'll call Manx. If Kritiker refuses to even consider what we want, we'll explore other options."

As they walked to their mission room in silence, Yoji wondered if they were all thinking about those other options the way he was. He really hoped Kritiker didn't force them to break away. It wouldn't be pretty.

  


* * *

As soon as Omi had the link going, Aya plunged right in with his speech, barely giving Manx the time to get more than a greeting in. "Manx, Schuldig quickly found us here, so there's no point in running. He'll find us wherever we go. Thus, I think we should go back to Tokyo and stay there unless we have business elsewhere. Our familiarity with the city helps us work better."

She looked annoyed. "Kritiker will consider it. You might ask yourself how you can make yourself more valuable to us to speed the decision."

Omi shot to his feet. "That isn't right!"

"I agree," Aya said, though it didn't surprise him that Kritiker would put such conditions on it.

"We're your employer. You should be thinking of these things already. I know you have reasons for wanting to be in Tokyo, but you have to consider our needs too."

Aya's mouth twisted. "I'll keep it in mind."

"We'll consider your request." She cut the connection.

Aya walked out in disgust and avoided Yoji's hand, since he didn't feel like he could handle company. 'Consider it.' How long would that take?

  


* * *

Omi watched Aya storm away, then called Kritiker back. As soon as Manx came on, he asked, "What the hell was that about? You know that he'll kill himself trying to give you enough to bring us back to Tokyo." He knew that Ken and Yoji were watching him in shock but didn't give a damn. This was too important.

"You're exaggerating."

"You know better. Is this because he wouldn't play a whore when you told him to?"

"Omi!" Ken said. Yoji smiled.

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not that petty."

Unimpressed, Omi replied, "Prove it."

"You serve Kritiker, not the other way around. Remember everything we've done for you."

Yes, saved him from his kidnappers, then renamed him, trained him to kill for them, and tried to keep his past and true identity forgotten and buried, the better to set him to the task of assassinating his family. Very humanitarian of them. The look on his face must have told her his thoughts, because Manx said, "We always have your welfare in mind. Sometimes you're too close to the situation to realize that."

"So keep Aya's welfare in mind. Don't drive him too hard."

"We're not doing anything to him."

Omi saw Ken and Yoji stare at Manx with exactly the same expression he felt on his own face. Omi said, "Just keep it in mind. Bombay out."

"I'll see how Aya is doing," Yoji said as he stood and left.

Watching Yoji go, Omi said, "I should probably give up on that."

"Probably," Ken answered. "Will you?"

"Probably not."

  


* * *

Yoji didn't find Aya anywhere he expected inside the trailer and started to worry that Aya had gone out walking alone to parts unknown as he often did while upset. Fortunately, Aya may have gone outside but he hadn't gone far, having stopped to sit down on the sidewalk behind the trailer. He seemed to be watching the dark storm clouds drift and tumble across the periwinkle sky. Yoji sat beside him, lit up a cigarette, and shared the silence. It felt almost companionable, whereas once sitting with Aya felt like sitting alone or with someone who wanted you to be somewhere else far away.

After a while, Aya said dryly, "Schuldig never brought _me_ flowers."

At least he was talking. But.... "He didn't-- And it was one flower, not 'flowers'!"

"Why a tiger lily?"

"I don't know." Yoji decided to follow up the lie with some misdirecting truth. "He's a sick bastard, okay? Who knows how he thinks."

"Granted."

Yoji wanted to leave that topic immediately. "Omi called back to give Manx a tongue-lashing after you left."

He smiled a little. "I'm sorry I missed that."

"We all forbid you to get stupid over this and overwork yourself."

Aya took on a dangerous look. "Forbid?"

"Yeah. All of us. Don't give Kritiker the satisfaction."

"I'll be good," Aya said, looking at Yoji with a cool expression.

Like hell.

  


* * *

Aya struck with his katana, then tried to flow through the wooden 'opponent.' He hit his shoulder hard instead. Dammit. There had to be a way. He tried again and hit again.

He felt something coming at him and flowed right through at last to get away from it. Omi, who'd fired at him, said, "It's all in your subconscious right now."

"I can't depend on that to defend me."

"True. You know, I think you have more than biokinesis. Your talent affects your clothes and katana too. You may be more powerful and multi-faceted than we thought."

"I hadn't thought of that." While he had a witness.... "Omi, I want to try something."

"Yeah?"

Aya took off his coat and sat down on the nearby chair. "I want to see if I can transform again and come back."

Omi smiled. "But you hate being a woman."

Aya shot him a withering look that Omi only continued to smile through. Aya said, "Being able to change my appearance would be useful."

"I won't argue."

Aya thought about his other self, wanted it, and felt only a slight moment of vertigo and a liquid, shifting feeling. And he was her again. "Do I look the same as I did?"

"It looks like. I wonder why you settled on such a big chest the first time. Do you have a secret anime stash?"

"If the chest offends you, let me try to change it." He concentrated and felt it shift again, but more painfully. This was less instinctive. When he opened his eyes, his breasts were smaller. He _could_ do this. What about his hair? Darker, darker.... His head started to churn, raw and painful, but he felt a rush of something too. A good rush. A very good rush. He could do anything to himself, remake himself utterly, he could feel it.

  


* * *

Omi had never seen Aya mid-change before--the near-shifts that Aya had quickly corrected that night didn't count--and the sight left him deeply unsettled. The change in breast size didn't make much impact with Aya's shirt shielding it from close view, but Omi could watch as black appeared at the roots of Aya's crimson hair and ran down the strands until it covered them completely. Wrong. Unnatural.

It had to be messing with Aya's mind even worse.

Omi's stomach churned as Aya's head drifted down from its upright position and teeth clenched, struggling. This looked painful, and Aya was so stubborn.... Omi knelt in front of the chair and grabbed his arms. "Stop! Aya, stop!"

Aya pressed his forehead to Omi's, so warm. "I can change my eyes too. Watch me," Aya said in his husky woman's voice, so seductive. "How about green, like Yoji's?" He sounded dazed and almost high.

Omi remembered his own experience of Aya's abilities, of how that building had fallen _through_ him, and he hadn't felt it. He _had_ felt Aya's body shift from female to male and Aya's heart pounding, felt Aya hold him and urge him to walk. Nothing else. What happened to him should have felt as impossible and life altering at the time as it had actually been. It hadn't.

Afterward, he'd felt odd, twitchy and exhilarated. Almost high. Who knew what else was adjusted in the effort to slide through solid matter... or change gender and physical traits?

"Aya, a blood vessel in your right eye broke," Omi said. "Please stop."

"No, it's good. This is like anything else. It's always difficult and painful until you get used to it."

Omi had a sudden horrified idea of what kind of damage Aya must have done to himself while training to be an assassin to get his vengeance. "I believe you. You can try again another time."

"All right." Aya was a redheaded man again. That change seemed to be far easier for him.

Becoming his former woman self seemed easier than the other changes as well. Maybe practice _would_ make it better. If Omi could convince him not to hurt himself doing it. That would be challenging.

Maybe Omi would be thinking clearer if he didn't have Aya's face brushing his, close enough to kiss. He or Aya just had to move to the side a little and their lips would touch. Maybe something deeper would start. It might be a Bad Thing, but if Aya chose to kiss him again, he wouldn't fight it. It had happened once without the world ending. It could happen again.

"You're a good friend, Omi," Aya said softly and moved back.

Friend? Kiss of death! But without the kissing. Damn.

"Omi. I think... I may need help with this. With training myself in this. What?"

Omi tried to dim his smile a little. "Give me a minute to bask." He'd thought he'd have to cajole and beat Aya down on this. No way Aya could be trusted not to kill himself trying to train himself to use his new abilities if he did it alone. He needed guidance and supervision, and there was no way he'd have to go to Schwarz to get it, as Yoji had suggested. It wouldn't be necessary, and Omi wouldn't allow it.

"I'm not that difficult."

Omi snorted.

"That's just rude," Aya said softly, but he nearly smiled.

  


* * *

Aya walked out of the bathroom dressed but radiating humid shower heat and looking very relaxed. This would be the perfect time.... Yoji said, "I thought I might take you out somewhere."

Aya _smiled_, leaned in close, and said in a deep, husky voice, "Sounds nice. But I'm not hungry." At least not for food, if his mood could be judged by his body language.

Only an idiot would turn down such an invitation. "It doesn't have to be for dinner. I know a hotel you might like." And only an idiot would interrupt it to ask what had happened to Aya's eye, so Yoji didn't do that. Later existed for a reason. Yoji fingercombed wet hair that looked nearly black away from Aya's eyes and took a deep breath as he saw the lust darkening them. Definitely a hotel.

Yoji enjoyed seeing Aya this blatantly lustful, especially as the initiator. Looking at him wickedly, radiating heat, Aya grabbed his hand and kissed it. He could definitely get used to this.

  


* * *

It worried Yoji to see Aya being so quiet, self-contained, and Aya-like in the car, but he kept driving. After that earlier display, he intended to do a full debauchery, and nothing would stop him, especially not Aya trying to revert to original type.

Aya kept being Aya as they picked up the key and walked to the room, but once the door closed behind them he _looked_ at Yoji with such intensity that Yoji briefly took a step back. It seemed that he wouldn't have any problems here after all. Aya brought that same intensity to his kiss, and Yoji responded eagerly, running his hands all over him and humping him back.

But Yoji had to ask, "What was up with you being so quiet and cool in the car?"

"Everything... in its proper time and place. Now is a good time," Aya answered in a husky, breathless voice that went right to Yoji's cock. "No talking."

"I like to listen to you talk."

Aya kissed him hard and tore at his fly, ruthless in pursuit of what he wanted. Yoji moaned, which came out sounding more like a hum, which made Aya shudder. Sensitive boy. Sensitive boy who growled, "Too fucking tight," when he couldn't get Yoji's pants and underwear down. What did he expect? With how low the pants hung, they had to be tight just to stay up. Yoji had to help him. Damn, the shoes were in the way.

With the two of them in the state they were in, desperate and sex-stupid, it looked like this would be a fast one if they could actually get themselves undressed. Or they could always grind against one another clothed if undressing turned out to be too challenging. Yoji didn't mind a fast one, since he had no intention of settling for one time tonight.

When Yoji had himself successfully half-naked, the important half, he looked up to see that Aya had made efficient use of the time by removing his shirt and boots and starting on his pants. The skin of Aya's left shoulder and arm was mottled with masses of dark bruises.

"What the hell have you been doing to yourself?" Yoji asked.

"We're assassins. It happens."

It hadn't happened on last night's mission; Yoji had kept track of Aya the whole time. These were fresh. Add them to the blood in his eye, and it looked like Aya might be doing something stupid and self-destructive in his spare time. "You're not being good, are you?"

Aya's expression turned wild. "If you have complaints--"

"About the training! You promised not to kill yourself trying to master your new... abilities."

"I'm not." Aya's lips twisted. "I'm under supervision now."

"Whose?"

"Omi's."

That had to be okay. Omi wouldn't let Aya hurt himself.

"Take off your shirt," Aya said.

"Take off your pants."

"I'm working on it."

"Work faster."

Aya snarled at him, which raised Yoji's temperature considerably. He kept uncovering new fetishes during his times with Aya. But that bite, that Schuldig bite, on Aya's neck pissed him off, so he pounced and sucked hard on it to make his own mark over it. Aya writhed against him and shouted his name before pulling him down on the bed on top of him. Fuck yes.

As they kissed and rubbed against each other, Aya's fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt, so he took mercy and undid them, then tossed the shirt away, putting them bare chest to bare chest. That look of concern--no stone face here--over the bandage on his shoulder made him feel warm. Aya wiggled under him. Yoji had never figured him for a wiggler. Then again, there were a lot of things Yoji had never figured him for that it turned out he was and did.

"Dammit," Yoji muttered as he caught on Aya's open zipper. "Your pants are coming off."

"Am I supposed to be arguing?"

They both tried to pull Aya's pants off at the same time, which didn't get the pants off but did make them look silly trying. Yoji, the expert at removing clothing under such circumstances, finally waved Aya's hands away and pulled everything off in a few fluid movements.

"It's a gift," Yoji said as he slid back up Aya's body.

Aya plucked his shades off, to his protests, with "You wore these two out of the three times. I prefer to see your eyes." But then Aya gave him a hot kiss and wrapped himself around him, rocking hard against him, which made it better.

Better, but it would leave them with frottage again. Yoji figured that if he was doing a man, he might as well do things that could only be done with a man. "Hey, Aya, let go of me a little and let me try something."

Aya raised an eyebrow but loosened his grip and made an exaggerated show of lying back and surrendering himself. Wise-ass. Yoji liked it and showed how much he liked it by kissing his way down Aya's chest to his cock. He touched its tip with his tongue and smiled at the full-body shudder that got from Aya, then licked his way down the length of it.

"Yoji, Yoji," Aya gasped, "I'm going to--"

Going to come. Whatever had revved Aya's engine had given him very little staying power. Given the warning, Yoji moved out of the way before he got hit in the face with come or Aya's bucking body. It let him watch the pleasure rush across that usually cool face too.

Once it finished wringing him out, Aya sprawled there limply across the bed and blushed. "That was embarrassing."

Yoji felt the heat of it when he kissed Aya's cheek. "I didn't mind."

"_I_ did!"

He ran his fingers down Aya's slick length and licked them clean. Interesting. Sweeter than his own. Aya took in a deep aroused breath watching him do it. Gestures meant so much in life.

Nuzzling his neck, Yoji said, "You're done for, but I have this big--really big--thing that needs to be taken care of. Do you have any suggestions?"

"You could fuck me." Aya avoided his eyes. "If you want to."

Yoji had been expecting this to come up sooner or later and read up on it, not that he'd ever admit that to Aya. When he thought of the weeks he'd spent wanting to fuck girl Aya.... "Have you ever done this before?" he purred, striving to sound sexy instead of curious.

Aya answered with silence and a blanked face. That would be a 'no.' Yoji had the sudden uncomfortable thought that he'd been a virgin before transforming into a woman, which meant that he'd had his first sexual experiences in a body that hadn't really been his. As if he needed more reasons to be fucked up.

Yoji could see Aya starting to second-guess himself as he waited for an answer. "I want to," Yoji said as he put the condom on. "I really want to."

As they kissed in a slow, hot tangle of tongues, Yoji slicked his fingers and used will power to hold himself back from coming. He didn't want to shoot off too fast. He'd expected more resistance for the first finger, but after the initial difficulty it slid right in. Aya had relaxed against him, and it felt like trust. Then Yoji found his sweet spot, and he became even easier. By the time Yoji was working Aya with three fingers, he was using every finger fucking trick he knew and a few new ones he'd picked up in his reading to whip Aya up into a writhing, begging froth. Amid the moaning and babble, it sounded like Aya wanted his cock already. Well, Yoji didn't believe in denying people that, especially when he didn't know how much longer he could hold on anyway.

"I hate the way you make me beg for it," Aya gasped.

"_Make_ you beg? At no point did I demand that you beg me to touch you. If you haven't noticed, I barely need an invitation. And it's almost impossible for me to _make_ you do anything."

Then Yoji understood what Aya meant. Aya, who rarely spoke to his teammates when he could avoid it and had a limited array of things he said to his victims, could be imprecise at times just from a lack of experience in actually communicating with people. He probably meant that he hated how Yoji made him _want_ to beg for more from how good it felt.

"You won't be begging for much longer," Yoji said.

Once he slicked up, Yoji thrust in as carefully as he could manage, trying to be gentle. Disdaining 'gentle,' Aya pushed himself down as Yoji pushed up. Damn it was good, hot and tight, and it was _Aya_ demanding it and moaning his name. Unable to wait any longer, Yoji started to thrust and followed every command to thrust harder and faster. Aya was anything but cold now as he had his wonderfully flexible body twisted around Yoji's and begged for more, his pleasure right on his face for anyone to see. Beautiful.

  


* * *

Aya let himself drown in the sensations that ran across his skin and inside him. It terrified him to abandon his self-control and give in to what his body wanted, yet right now he did it, completely surrendering to his physical desires, Yoji, and the pleasure he distrusted. He let it obliterate him, riding the rush as Yoji rode him. It felt like and utterly unlike what Yukio had done to him: triggering different feelings, working in different places, surrounding him in different scents, running a very different weight atop him.

When Yoji came, Aya could swear that _he_ felt it throughout his body and blacked out accordingly. He came to with his body aching pleasantly from use and Yoji lying beside him stroking his hair, so he turned to face him.

"Tired?" Yoji asked, sounding and looking amused and self-satisfied.

"Hmm, yeah." Feeling safe, Aya fell asleep.

  


* * *

Yoji smirked. He'd made Aya do that. Again, he saw signs of a trust that Aya had never shown him before.

Then Yoji looked at the bruises on his arm and shoulder again and sighed. Trust didn't mean that Aya wouldn't do stupid, self-destructive things in secret without seeing anything wrong with it. Having gotten through all of Aya's armor, Yoji felt very protective of him now, and if he needed to be protected from himself sometimes, so be it.

Aya shifted and murmured in his sleep. Yoji eased his arm over Aya's bare shoulders, careful of the bruises, and wondered what he was dreaming about. Wondered what Schuldig had been telling him. Wondered if Aya was being careful in his training, and what form Omi's 'supervision' took.

He wanted to stay awake all night and watch Aya sleep. He wanted to protect Aya from bad dreams and crazy telepaths and his utter disregard for his own safety.

He slept soundly, and if he had dreams, he didn't remember them.

  


* * *

Aya sighed. "You." He couldn't be left alone even in his dreams anymore.

"What? No threats, no recriminations? Either I'm losing my touch or you should have sex more often."

Aya snorted, amused despite himself. "If I had any _more_ sex I wouldn't be able to walk straight."

"Ah, straight's overrated." Schuldig sat down cross-legged on Aya-chan's hospital bed-- her empty bed, with the cross slashed deeply into the mattress-- and seemed to notice his surroundings for the first time. "What's this, the site of your greatest failure? Or is it second greatest? How do you even keep track?"

"I've invested in a Day-Planner," Aya said.

Schuldig applauded. "Very good! I see I'm rubbing off on you." Then he leered. "Wanna rub some more?"

"You," Aya said, "have not influenced me in any way." He turned on his heel, intending to leave the hospital room and, hopefully, the dream. He stalked out the door--

\--and found himself walking back inside, ready for his daily visit with his sister. The nurses had told him that he helped Aya-chan by talking to her, and he knew they were just trying to make him feel better, but in some foolish, infantile way it worked. He felt optimistic for the first time in years. She would wake up someday, they would build a new life together--

The bed was empty.

His sister was gone. There was a large cross carved into the mattress. Aya felt his stomach turn to lead. He knew exactly what it meant: that he had failed yet again, that he had brought this down upon her. His work with Weiß had endangered his baby sister just as surely as Takatori and his car.

He sank to his knees--

"Oh, get up. You're like a bloody Mobius strip. Learn a new tune, would you?"

Aya glared up at Schuldig, feeling imaginary heat suffuse his dream self's face. "Get out."

"So you can wallow in peace? I don't know, we were having a nice conversation a moment ago. I feel like I really learned something, don't you?"

"No. I already knew you were a pain in the ass." Aya stood. "Bored tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" Schuldig stretched lazily and lay back on the bed. _Her_ bed. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd given any thought to my offer."

"I don't need you. Omi's helping me."

"Knows a lot about psi talents, does he?"

"Omi's helping me train," Aya repeated evenly. "Yoji's fucking me. I don't need you."

"No. No, you don't." Then Schuldig smiled. "But you _want_ me."

He didn't bother denying it. "That doesn't matter."

"You're so repressed. I'm not evil, Aya, I'm just drawn that way." At Aya's puzzled silence, Schuldig sighed. "Never mind. Honestly, you make sex such a big _thing_. I know you're attracted to me; what more do you want?"

"I don't appreciate being coerced."

"You didn't seem to mind when Kudou did it."

"That's different."

"How?"

Aya couldn't quite think of an answer. He couldn't say 'Yoji never tried to kill me,' because he wasn't even sure that was entirely true. The early days of their acquaintance were hidden under such a cloud of grief and rage....

Instead he said, "You must be really hard up if you're begging me for it."

"I told you, it's my new fetish. I've tried making Farfie wear a skirt but it's just not the same. That was a joke, Fujimiya, chill."

The mental image still made Aya feel faint. Which seemed strange, because he was already unconscious, so how could he pass out? He decided not to think about it. Or about Farfarello wearing a skirt....

He was _not_ thinking about it.

Schuldig smirked. "I was your first as a man. I was nearly your first as a woman. I feel like we have a bond, don't you?"

"I'm waking up now," Aya said firmly.

"Oh, sure, avoid the issue. That's what you're good at."

"Why ruin a winning streak?" Aya pinched himself hard--

\--and woke.

He stared at Yoji's sleeping face, so close to his own, and the thin trail of saliva running down his chin to the pillow. Aya hid a smile.

If this was avoidance, he'd take it any day.

  


* * *

Aya's head pounded, but he fought it. If he let pain scare him off, he'd never master the talent.

Omi grabbed him. "Aya, stop!"

"I can get this."

"You are getting it."

"I can get this easier."

"Of course the color work is harder. You've been shifting mass and form for a while now but not your coloring. Take it slow and easy."

"I didn't take the others slow and easy."

"And look at you now."

Aya sighed. "I walked right into that."

"Yep."

  


* * *

Aya slashed down with his katana, but his katana ghosted through his opponent, who gibbered for a moment before laughing in derision. Damn it. Aya solidified himself and his weapon and did it right this time, stopping the man's laughter forever. It looked like he'd need more practice with his abilities.

Ken coughed behind him, and Aya said, "If you tell Yoji about that, I'll kill you."

"Sure, Aya."

But during the car ride home, Yoji looked at him through the rearview mirror and said, "Hey, Aya--" but couldn't get any farther through the laughter.

When Aya glared at Ken, Ken answered, "I couldn't help myself! It was funny!" Aya's death threats used to be more effective. Perhaps he'd overused them recently.

Well, he'd certainly had cause to. Unfortunately he didn't see that changing any time in the near future.

  


* * *

Yoji saw Aya on the phone and listened in a bit to see if he was near the end of his conversation. "--right. I hope I can see you soon. Work. You know. You know more than I want you to." Aya listened silently for a while, then said, "I love you too. We'll talk again soon."

Once Aya hung it up, Yoji sidled up to stand behind him to gauge where Aya was. When Aya practiced with his weird abilities, he came out of it feeling fairly lusty. Easy. He leaned back against Yoji. Yeah, definitely practicing.

Yoji felt a thrill running through his body, the new kind of lust that he hadn't quite put a name to yet. Aya's male body was foreign yet familiar to him now, and sometimes he caught himself still looking for soft curves instead of hard planes, not that he'd ever admit it to Aya. Being attracted to him as a man had become something of a badge of pride for Yoji. Which was strange enough considering how vehemently he had insisted-- would still insist-- that he wasn't gay.

But Aya wasn't necessarily a man, at least not just _any_ man, and he certainly wasn't a woman. He embodied a third column and possibly some nebulous fourth as well.

Yoji didn't like men. He liked Aya. That was enough for him, and Schuldig could just go screw himself.

"We should be minding the shop," Aya said, but he made no move to pull away.

Yoji smiled, gratified, and ran his fingers through the wilder strands of Aya's hair. "Eh, business is slow. There's really no way for a traveling florist business to build a customer base, when you think about it."

"Customers," Aya echoed. He said it like it was a dirty word.

"You're not cut out for the service industry, are you?"

"You only just realized this?" Aya was quiet for a moment, and then he said, almost inaudibly, "I was a waiter."

"You--" What? "What?"

Yoji could feel the small twitch of lips that was Aya's version of a smile. "Before this. I was a waiter."

Before Weiß, before Takatori. Before his sister's coma. "No wonder you hate people."

"I don't hate people. Not always."

"Yeah, you're a ray of sunshine." Once again Aya had shared information freely. The fact that it was personal information, about his own past, made the revelation all the more daunting. Suddenly Yoji was seized by a moment's unreasoning panic. What exactly was he getting himself into?

The moment passed, just as Aya demanded, "What is it?" and Yoji relaxed, feeling a true smile curve his face. He rested his hand under Aya's chin and pulled him around gently until they were facing each other. Aya was tall, but Yoji was just a little bit taller, and Aya's lips parted easily under his.

Lust. Oh yes.

  


* * *

Yoji danced, enjoying the pounding of the music thrumming through his body. The pretty woman he danced with spun him away into the arms of a new partner. "So predictable, Yoji," Schuldig said as he tightened his grip on Yoji's wrist, the one he kept his watch on. "I guess I can't expect all your dreams to be... stimulating."

"Fuck off," Yoji said, but his efforts to pull away got him nowhere. Maybe Schuldig's telepathy made him stronger in dreams.

"Maybe. It sure is fun corrupting Aya, isn't it?"

"Corrupting? You have the wrong guy. I'm the last one who's gonna think that having a healthy sex life is corruption. Aya, though...." Yoji understood then. "You son of a bitch."

Schuldig's smile just about devoured his face. "The only reason you got him to go this far is that he got his vengeance and his sister woke up from her coma. Before, it would have been a mortal sin to have a sex life while he had so much undone. Hell, enjoying himself at all would have been wrong."

"That's before."

"That's years, and old habits are hard to break."

Yoji hadn't wanted to kill someone this badly in a long time. "And you'll remind him of his old habits. Fuck, what the hell do you want? First you dare me to move on him, then you try to break us up. Do you have a plan? Or is that you have no fucking attention span?"

"You know what I'm in it for. Fuck, Yoji, Aya is so much easier than you are. I say something, and he's already three steps ahead at my destination. You make me work for it."

"Good."

"You realize that I'm suggesting that you're not very bright."

"I don't give a damn."

"Yeah? Maybe you'll give a damn about this: When you're tired of being 'not gay'--what, Ayasexual?--and can't deal with him anymore because you have no idea what tangled mess his head is in, I'll be there waiting to pick up the pieces. Please feel free to soften him up for me."

Yoji punched him, but he wasn't Schuldig anymore. Asuka grunted at the impact and dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach. "Why did you do that, Yoji?" she gasped, looking up at him with hurt and confusion in her eyes.

Fuck. Knowing it was a dream didn't make him feel any better.

  


* * *

Brown-haired and green-eyed and female, Aya felt good, really good, over having successfully held this form for ten minutes and counting without pain. He also felt unbearably... excited. He'd convinced Omi to leave him alone, and Yoji was nowhere to be found, and he had to work this off somehow.

The phone beckoned. It wouldn't hurt anyone, and maybe Yukio worried about him....

As soon as she said her hello, he answered, "Yukio, can we talk for a bit? It's Aya," in a purr he hadn't thought himself capable of.

He could hear her smile. "I have to say that it's hard to think when you sound like that."

"Good. I'm not thinking clearly myself at the moment."

"I can help clear your head. Can you steal a few minutes of privacy?"

He took the phone into the bathroom and locked the door. "Done."

Her voice purring dirty instructions and his own fingers brought him to orgasm in five minutes. "Oh, God," he finally gasped as he sprawled half-naked on the counter with his head tilted back against the wall and legs spread, the aftershocks of pleasure pulsing through his body.

"Yes, my disciple?"

As he looked at himself in the mirror, he realized that at some point his hair and eyes had changed back to his true colors, making it him--female him--sitting there looking like a wanton slut. What the hell was he doing? Once he'd been the master of his flesh, but lately it seemed to be taking a protracted vengeance on him. He closed his eyes.

"And here comes the guilt," Yukio said over the phone, sounding sad.

He wouldn't make _her_ feel awful over this. "No. I just didn't call with the intention of getting free phone sex."

"It's dull where you are?"

Aya thought of all that had happened since she'd last seen him. "I wouldn't say that. It's just not home."

"Tell me about it."

So he did, as much as he could, which of course left out the assassinations, predatory telepath, building cave-in, ghost-walking, and body changes, yet even with his omissions he still had more to talk about than he'd expected.

  


* * *

His arms tightly crossed, Aya stared at the clothing folded in neat piles at the bottom of the closet. _Her_ clothing.

He'd hated every moment of being female that month. Hated it. It had been wrong, a cruel lie, to be stuck like that. He only got these urges to become her now when he didn't have to because the changing gave him an endorphin rush, intoxication. That was all. It would be sick to want it for any other reason. His calls to Yukio had been aberrations born of chemical shifts. The anatomically impossible sexual ache he felt in body parts he didn't even _have_ as a man had to be psychosomatic.

If he didn't start taking responsibility for his own lusts, they'd keep blindsiding him.

It would be easier if he didn't have the clothes around to remind him, but he needed to keep them for work, since Kritiker so appreciated the thought of an agent that could completely change his appearance. Keeping them saved some expenses, and he knew he could move and fight in these.

Aya's hands clenched on his arms. Rush or no, temptation or no, Yukio or no, he only had to exercise some self-control.

  


* * *

Aya had been standing on this line in the bank for hours now. How incompetent was that teller? His father would have lambasted her. Incensed beyond measure, he started to unsheathe his katana, intent on teaching her what customer service should be.

On line in front of him, Kae-kun stamped her foot and growled, "C'mon already! Aya, you have to do something about this!" She looked as angry as a four-year-old girl could possibly look.

Kae hadn't seen him since they were both four years old, so why had she called him 'Aya'? Goading him to kill seemed out of character as well. Maybe she would have to taste his blade first.

"I'm scared to think about what this says about your subconscious," someone said from behind him. Schuldig.

Aya spun, katana unsheathed. The telepath simply stood there and gave him an amused, somewhat contemptuous look. "I'm so scared," Schuldig said with a theatrical yawn.

"This dream," since that must have been what this was, "says that I'm hot-tempered, paranoid, and impatient."

"As well as casually lethal. But waiting on line in a bank? Dull, dull, dull. I could put you someplace more interesting. A strip club, Valhalla...."

It might actually be Schuldig inserting himself into the scenario and not a dream Schuldig, so Aya asked, "Do you _want_ something?"

"Nah, it's about what _you_ want. More specifically, about you knowing what you want. I told you that you'll never master your abilities if you don't figure out what that is."

Aya wondered if his soulful staring into the closet had attracted Schuldig's attention.

The telepath smiled. "Yeah, that would be it."

Aya answered, "I know what I want."

"Oh, really?"

"I want you out of my head."

Schuldig put his hand over his heart and dramatically winced as if he'd been shot. Pity he hadn't been. "Oh! The wit. I walked right into that one. And nasty, nasty Aya, wishing harm on someone who means you nothing but good."

"You're putting a lot of effort into me. Maybe you should ask yourself what _you_ really want," Aya said.

His eyes narrowed, and he paused for a moment before answering, "What I really want would scare you." The figure that had been Schuldig became Aya's mother again and said nothing, though she stared at him and his unsheathed weapon reproachfully. It might have hurt if he hadn't been so aware now that he was dreaming.

He awoke and stared into the darkness, upset at Schuldig's intrusion but feeling like he'd scored a small victory. Of course, Schuldig would probably make him pay for that later.

  


* * *

"It seems that I can only change my hair, skin, and eye color to colors that naturally appear in humans."

Omi couldn't help smiling as he imagined the possibilities. "Okay, now I'm curious. What color were you trying for?"

"I couldn't give myself purple or blue hair. Red eyes didn't work either."

"Someday I'll find your anime stash, Aya. Hey, you smiled!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Omi-kun," Aya said as he walked away.

  


* * *

Aya shook his head as he took advantage of his distance to watch Yoji in action amongst the customers. The man flirted the way other people breathed: automatically and incessantly. It seemed as necessary to him as breathing as well. Aya could just barely hear his low, insouciant purr as he spoke about something that probably had nothing whatsoever to do with the job he was supposed to be doing.

Aya sighed. How could mannerisms that had annoyed the shit out of him months ago now seem so endearing? He knew he had a stupid little smile on his face.

This couldn't happen. He didn't dare become attached, because he would lose Yoji eventually, especially if Yoji ever found out what he was really like.

  


* * *

Aya found a certain peace in the repetitive, familiar motions of closing up for the night. It required no thinking of itself and allowed him to let his mind wander. With only a few more plants left to bring in, he was almost done, so he took a moment to enjoy the colors streaking across the sky.

"Alone again?" Schuldig. How did Schuldig sneak up on him so easily?

Aya ghosted through the hand coming at him, leapt to the side, and turned to face his opponent. "What do you want?"

What did Schuldig always want? To mess with his head and whatever other body parts he could get his hands on.

"You need to get a new script, Aya. Don't worry. It's a friendly visit." Schuldig wore a long black coat and well-tailored dark clothing, all very flattering and contrasting nicely with his bright hair, and had foregone the headband. He looked good, far too good.

"Your visits are too friendly. I don't want you."

"It's amazing how people keep trying to lie to telepaths. It's so pointless. But that's okay, because Yoji wants me."

That hurt far more than it should and for far too many tangled reasons. Aya refused to show that Schuldig's shot had hit home, but the telepath probably knew anyway. "Lust fixates on whomever it pleases. It's what you do with it that matters."

"I think I hear an echo again. I'll be kind and tell you that he didn't make a move on me. But in his mind...." Schuldig smiled smugly. "In his mind he let me fuck him and begged for more. I guess you're not enough for him. I guess the problem isn't that you're a man or that you do weird shit, it's that you're you."

Driven beyond thinking, Aya attacked, punching with enough force to knock Schuldig's head back. Schuldig grabbed his wrist and yanked him in for a kiss, and Aya had spent so much time and effort training himself not to ghost when Yoji touched him this way that he couldn't make himself phase out. He responded to the skill and hunger in that kiss, kissing and grabbing back, even as he hated himself for it. Having never been so attracted to someone he hated this much--even Botan had only annoyed him--he didn't know what to do, especially since Schuldig seemed to see attacks as foreplay. Schuldig's mouth tasted sweet....

Schuldig let him go and spun him away, taking advantage of his dazed lust and confusion, then touched the bruise swelling along his cheekbone and smiled. "But I love it that you're so fucked up. Don't ever change." Between one blink of Aya's eyes and the next, Schuldig was gone.

Breathing hard, Aya leaned against the side of the trailer for a moment, then stalked inside.

  


* * *

Aya walked in looking like death, his face ashen and angry and miserable all at once, and said, "Omi, call Manx."

"What?"

"Now."

Arguing with that tone of voice wouldn't be a good idea. When Yoji approached Aya and had teeth bared at him in response, he decided that touching him wouldn't be a good idea either.

As soon as Omi got Manx up on the viewscreen, Aya said, "You're getting us out of Kanazawa _now_." His voice sounded like gravel being ground to powder. "Schuldig just paid me a personal visit at the trailer."

Oh, shit. And what had Schuldig done to make Aya act like this? Yoji lit up a cigarette. Schuldig had been out there and none of them had realized it. Omi's eyes had gone wide.

Why hadn't Aya yelled out a warning?

Manx said, "This is sudden--"

"Get us the _fuck_ out of here now. He just violated all of your excuses."

She got a stubborn look on her face. "He'll find you in Tokyo too."

"At least there we'll be home."

"It doesn't look like he hurt you."

Aya just gave her a _look_ that made her change her tune a little with "Keep in mind that we want you to--"

"I know what you want me to do," Aya answered coldly. "I can't forget it. I'm working on it. Now recall us."

"I'll see what I can do." She killed the connection.

"I'll step up my own efforts too, Aya," Omi said. "What happened outside?"

"I told you."

"Why didn't you shout for help?"

Yoji said, "When you're up against Schuldig, you're too busy fighting to hold your own to spare attention for anything else."

Just as Yoji had intended, Aya looked a little less hunted after his verbal assist. He could get the real story in private later. Omi and Ken hadn't experienced Schwarz's more... personal attentions and couldn't understand. Did it make him a very sick man that he appreciated having this kind of secret knowledge and bond with Aya? Probably, but he couldn't do anything about it. He was what he was.

Unfortunately, Omi wasn't so easily put off. "Aya, did he.... I mean...."

"We fought," Aya said. "He made some offensive insinuations and toyed with my head a little. _Verbally_, not with his telepathy."

"What did he say?"

"The same old shit. I need to--" Aya left the room in hurry. Yoji followed.

"Aya--" Yoji started, but Aya turned around to grab and kiss him, and in the midst of that hard, desperate kiss he could swear he tasted Schuldig on Aya's lips. He pulled away to gasp, "Aya, it's okay."

"It's not okay...." Aya might trip him to the floor and have his way with him right now.

These touches had the flavor of territorial claiming and ownership, though Yoji didn't know if Aya meant to claim him as owned property or to assert that he belonged to Yoji. Yoji grabbed his shoulders and held him out at arm's length. "You don't have to do this."

Aya looked down at the floor, seeming to be miserable and worried and afraid all at once. Of course he took it as a rejection.

"Aya, you don't have to prove yourself to me." Yoji pulled him back in close for a hug and stroked his crimson hair to try to calm the both of them. "What did he say to you?"

"The same old shit," Aya said softly into the side of his neck.

Omi came through the door, his expression falling as he saw them, though Yoji didn't know if the sudden depressed look came from jealousy or sympathy over their obvious misery. "Manx called. We're reassigned back to Tokyo. We can leave tomorrow morning."

Aya pulled himself back together, straightening up and moving away from Yoji, his idea of being strong and in control. "At least something good has come of this."

Yoji hoped Tokyo would be better, but he wondered....


	9. Chapter 9

"Ran!" Aya yelled as she jumped him.

It made all of his hard work worthwhile. Of course, he still had to convince Kritiker to let them remain here.

"How is my favorite girl?" he asked as he hugged her.

"Great, now that you're here. Come in and say hi to Momoe-san."

"I will, but I can't stay long."

Looking disappointed but unsurprised, she said, "Work again."

"Always. But I'll be back again. I just wanted to see you as soon as we arrived." Literally. He'd driven off in his car almost as soon as they'd stopped the trailer.

She nodded but said, "You have to learn when to say no to them."

It sounded wonderful in theory. In practice, it could probably get him killed. "I'll keep that in mind."

  


* * *

Aya looked at his woman self in the mirror. This change always came so easily, suggesting that his month in this form had made some permanent differences. Not that he could do anything about that now.

He took a deep, clearing breath and concentrated. The brown color seemed to flow out from behind his pupils until it reached the coronas of his irises. Black ran from the roots of his hair down to the tips. His skin slowly turned a warmer, more golden shade by degrees until he found one he could be content with. The sight of himself in mid-change freaked him out, but he didn't let that feeling of disquiet interrupt him. He kept the breast size of his default female form to let him wear clothing he already knew he could move comfortably in.

It hadn't hurt much, and he felt only slightly dizzy. Practice had helped.

So much depended on this mission. If it worked out, they would try to wring more concessions from Kritiker. If it didn't work... they would try to wring more concessions from Kritiker, though he doubted they'd be as successful. Omi had gained more responsibilities and power within the organization recently, but Kritiker knew him to be less than objective here.

Aya hoped that Kritiker didn't know that Aya and Omi had been keeping some secrets about the full extent of what he could do.

Aya walked out. "I'm ready."

When Ken turned to face him, he looked stunned by the changes. Understandable, since only Omi had been working with him on this. His practices with and fights alongside the team had featured weaponwork and the ghosting.

Yoji looked stunned and a bit afraid, just what Aya hadn't wanted. Yoji was personally involved with him.... Maybe he should have warned Yoji that he could do more than ghost and change gender. No, that wouldn't have made a difference.

He couldn't ever tell Yoji that the female form felt nearly as right as his real one.

  


* * *

"We have you onscreen," Omi said into his headset as he watched the patch he'd done into the security cameras. He could see the stranger Aya had become walk down the hall to the target.

Yoji sat on the seat next to him and tried not to look. Aya's change had disturbed the hell out of him, and he hadn't even watched it progress, just seen the end result. He knew that Aya didn't like himself sometimes, so the potential to be someone else could become too much of a temptation.

"I don't like this," Yoji said as he lit up a cigarette.

Omi turned off the talk function of his headset. "We have Ken set up as a backup." Aya didn't know.

"You guys think that maybe we don't want Aya to turn out to be too good at this? Last thing we want is Kritiker making Aya their favorite killtoy and sending him and us all over Japan."

That was a horrible possibility that Omi had obviously never considered. "Uh."

"That's why this team needs a slacker. We all have our roles."

  


* * *

Aya didn't like the weight of the guns. He preferred his katana, but the whole point of this exercise was to kill as someone utterly different than himself. He even wore a bit of makeup and a pair of nonprescription glasses and had his hair pulled back from his face with a decorative headband.

He'd made some concessions to office attire. Well, one. The pants he wore could work. His shoes looked a bit too sensible, and the trench coat hid the rest. Too much office wear would have hindered his movements too much. The night was cool enough to excuse the gloves. Fortunately, no one questioned him. An attitude of having every right to be there almost always did wonders.

Aya walked to his target's office and let himself in. The man said, "Who are--" then pulled his gun before his bodyguards even reacted. Good instincts and reflexes but too late. Aya threw the briefcase at him, disarming him, and shot him through the heart. He may have preferred his katana, but he was a crack shot, and he actually had sharper eyesight as a woman for some reason. The gun in his other hand took out the two bodyguards. He walked up to the bodies and delivered one more shot each to make certain.

Aya put his guns back in their holsters under his coat, picked up his briefcase, and left the room. Easy.

One of the men in the hall set himself in Aya's path. "I've never seen you before."

Apparently, it had been too easy.

"I'm new," Aya said.

"You'll have to come along with me." The man's hand went through Aya's arm.

Time to go. Aya dropped the briefcase, which couldn't be traced to him, and ran. Bullets passed right through him. Aya shot back, but _his_ bullets passed through his assailant, to said assailant's shock and confusion. Damn. He couldn't shoot and run like this at the same time.

  


* * *

"Shit!" Omi said. Why couldn't anything ever go smoothly?

"Yeah, we have to get Ken in there. What happened?"

Omi listened to the other plug in his ear, the one that monitored incoming calls to Yuasa's group, and felt his heart sink. "His major rival just declared a gang war. Yuasa's people are locking down and preparing."

"Shit."

"Aya, we're sending Ken in to help," Omi said into his mouthpiece.

Onscreen, Aya shook his head emphatically. No.

"You need backup," Omi protested as he noticed more guards coming at Aya from the other direction. Aya stopped, moved to the right, and leapt _through_ an elevator door, with the only sign that the process had given him a little trouble being that his hair briefly flashed red. "Or not." How the hell could Ken back Aya up when Aya could go places Ken couldn't? That would be a complication.

"I just hope he solidifies inside the elevator car instead of under it," Yoji said around his cigarette, chain-smoking. They all dealt with stress in their own ways.

"I hate you," Omi told him. Besides, he didn't want to figure out the physics of Aya dropping down an elevator shaft in his current state.

Ken would definitely have to destroy the security tapes on this one.

  


* * *

The elevator car rocked as Aya hit the floor. Maybe he'd gone too far in the other direction, too solid. He fought off the vertigo and sighed when he noticed that the car was ascending.

He heard Omi take a relieved breath in his ear. The elevator must have a camera that could be tapped into. It made sense. Finding the most likely place a camera would be hidden, Aya looked up at it and mouthed, "Get me an empty floor so I can switch elevators."

"Floor 18."

Aya nodded and pressed 18. Once the door opened to the 18th floor, he glanced outside, then stepped out and pressed the button to call another elevator. He didn't want to look too panicked. As soon as another elevator arrived, he went in and took it down to the parking garage level, standing out of the way of the opening door in case someone fired in. No one. He rushed through the garage unmolested and made it to the van outside. Yuasa's men weren't as competent as they should be. Still, even if the opposition hadn't been playing at the top of its game, he had to call this mission a success.

  


* * *

"Your hair flickered red twice," Omi said as Aya got in.

"Nice hello, Omi," Yoji muttered.

"I'll have to work on that flicker," Aya answered as he sat down.

Yoji watched as Aya's hair, skin, and eyes changed colors back to the natural ones, which had to be the freakiest thing he'd seen in a long time. But Aya remained female. "Shouldn't you be changing all the way back?" Yoji asked. As much as he liked the woman, Aya wasn't one. Seeing her back again left Yoji unsettled.

Aya took off the glasses and headband and ruffled his hair back into its usual disheveled bangs. "In this outfit? I'm more comfortable like this." He didn't so much lean against Omi as fall against him dizzily. "Just get us home, please."

"We can go," Omi said. "Ken will catch up with us later."

Yoji watched Aya and Omi through the rearview mirror as he drove, and the sight didn't become any less disturbing. Aya staying a woman for a while because he chose to be. Aya tired and resting his head on Omi's shoulder, comfortable with such a touchy-feely move, while Omi looked entirely unconcerned about the femininity or the way Aya had changed _colors_, like it happened all the time.

Omi must have been helping Aya with this. No wonder the kid had looked so smug lately, having something with Aya that Yoji didn't share. He seemed to be fine with what Aya could do.

Seeing how exhausted yet high Aya looked, Yoji couldn't say the same. This wasn't fine with him. Not at all.

It definitely wasn't fine with him when they reached the trailer but couldn't wake Aya up. "This isn't anything to worry about yet," Omi said as Yoji picked girl Aya up and carried him inside.

"Would you tell me when we hit that point? Because your definition seems to be a hell of a lot different from mine."

"It's just that going through walls _and_ being in a different form with different colors knocked him out." Omi _was_ a Takatori....

"Yeah, it could happen to anybody," Yoji said sourly as he gently sat Aya down on the bunk and took his coat off, with Omi helping to keep his unconscious, slack body steady. "Are you going to declare this one a success to Kritiker?"

"Probably. He was doing really well until he got to safety. Maybe the adrenaline rush faded."

"Or maybe he's a stubborn son of a bitch who has no respect for his own limits." Yoji unfastened the holster straps. If he touched Aya's breasts as he took the holsters off, he told himself that he couldn't help it. He'd missed her.... Then he removed the boots.

Completely exhausted and knocked out, Aya looked relaxed in a way he didn't look even in normal sleep. It didn't seem right that he had to run himself into the ground to get there.

Using his weird talents seemed to give him some kind of high, and Yoji knew from experience that Aya didn't handle intoxication well. Aya would need help in keeping his perspective on the situation, and Yoji would be that help. Refusing to give a shit about what Omi thought, Yoji stroked her hair away from her closed eyes and kissed her.

  


* * *

Aya awoke alone and smiled. No one hovering. Good. Checking the clock, he saw that he'd slept for only two hours. Even better. He felt great, full of energy. Far too much energy to stay here. And he was female already.... Surely he deserved a reward after so much hard work and a well-run mission.

Aya crept toward the kitchen and stayed in hiding. Once he heard all three of them talking--and not about him--he returned to the bunk area. To be certain of himself, he undressed and returned to his usual form for a few minutes, then turned female again, washed up, dressed up a bit, and snuck out the other door. All very, very quietly, getting a certain small thrill out of his deception and the thought of playing hooky.

She might not want to see him. They'd only spoken three times since he'd left Tokyo, but he thought it might be worth a try. If she didn't, surely he could find something else to do with himself in this form.

Fifteen minutes into his drive he stopped at a public phone and dialed her number. When she answered, he said, "Yukio, it's Aya. I'm in town."

"Hey! You wanna come see me?"

"That was the idea. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure! I can kick some clutter under the furniture.... Oh, did I say that out loud?"

He smiled, even though she couldn't see it. It felt so damned good to have someone who wasn't connected to his life as an assassin and all the dire things that went with it. "I'm afraid so. I'll come over anyway."

"I'll be waiting. See you soon."

As soon as she opened her apartment door for him, she pounced him, leaping up on him and giving him a kiss. "It's been an age! What do you look so smug about?"

"I had a decent day at work."

"Well. Let me make it better."

He didn't stop her from unfastening the buttons on his shirt, but asked, "Straight on to the sex?"

She grinned wickedly. "I like to eat my dessert first when I can. Then I can feed you and talk to you. Then more sex. Is that a problem?"

"No." But.... "Yukio, I'm a man in a woman's body." He felt the need to be honest with her, at least a little.

Her expression didn't change. "If you say so. I mean, I think you're more feminine than I am."

That wasn't the reaction Aya had expected. "Am I supposed to be insulted or not?"

"Not." Tiny but fierce, she leapt up and wrapped herself around him. "Do I look like someone who wants to insult you?"

She looked at him with simple lust and simple affection, didn't know what a mess he truly was, and had no expectations as to who he should be and how he should behave. He needed that desperately. Sometimes Yoji looked at him with such obviously conflicted emotions that Aya was ever conscious that he might scare Yoji too far and lose him--like he had today--while still having to work with him in Weiß. It made him walk a tightrope as he spoke and acted.

Relieved, Aya smiled. "You look like someone who wants to eat me alive."

"See? Now let's take this inside, shall we?"

  


* * *

Yoji would not panic. "I'm sure he's fine. If Schuldig kidnapped him, there would be a lot of gloating going on right now."

Omi looked a bit upset but said, "If he walked out of here on his own, he's doing pretty well. Only three hours of downtime."

"Can we keep our eyes on the prize and stop sounding like Takatori Masafume?"

Omi glared. "It means Aya's getting better at this. It's easier on him."

Ken said, "You can understand how Yoji might not think that's necessarily a good thing."

"This is a part of Aya now," Omi answered. "He has to live with it, and so do we."

Yoji preferred not to think about it. "He could be with his sister."

"Do we panic if he's not with his sister?" Ken asked.

Omi had this look on his face like a light bulb had turned on over his head. "No, we panic if he's not with Yoshida Yukio."

"Who?"

"She's one of the people he said goodbye to the last time we left Tokyo."

"How do you know this?" Yoji asked.

Omi looked a little shamefaced under the defiance. "He used my cell phone to call her."

"And you tracked her down off of that? You have a future as a stalker, kid."

"No. I had the best--"

"The best intentions. Of course you did."

Omi glared. "It may come in handy _now_."

Ken smiled. "Maybe he's not so odd after all."

So Aya had a woman on the side? Yoji had no reason to be upset, especially if it had been something going on before they'd hooked up. It'd be something Yoji would do, and Aya knew that very well. He had no reason to be jealous.

"I'll call Aya-chan to see if he's with her," Omi said. "I'm probably the only one of us who can do it so she won't panic if he's not."

"Don't let your head get _too_ swelled, Omi," Ken said.

  


* * *

Aya groaned as Yukio fucked him slowly, rocking into him, her hands and mouth seeming to be everywhere. So good.... He didn't think he'd ever get used to the way he could climax several times in a short period while in this body. Sparking all over, he whimpered as she finally finished him.

"Nice?" she asked as she pulled out, then curled up beside him.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Let me think.... No. No, I won't. Hungry yet? I mean, sure, you ate _me_, but-- Ha! You're blushing!"

He hid his face in the pillow. It had been only fair to do that for her, since she'd already reduced him to a pre-verbal state once with _her_ tongue.

"Can't hide from me, Aya girl. It's a small bed."

He sighed dramatically and faced her. "I _am_ hungry, though I don't understand your urge to feed me. Are you trying to fatten me up?"

Yukio grinned. "I like taking care of you. Somebody should spoil you. Besides, from the look of you, you work out often enough to burn this stuff right off, so I can feed you and still enjoy your freakishly rock-hard abs."

"As long as it's selfless."

"Totally." She took off her harness, got up, and put on a big, white men's shirt to cover her nakedness.

"Where did you get that from?"

"Bought it. Oh!" She smirked. "Yeah, I don't have any boyfriends to leave these. I love 'em. They're so nice, and it feels so wrong to wear 'em. I have one you can wear while you're here too. Actually, I'm looking forward to seeing you in it. It'll show off your legs." She threw one to him as she left the room.

It did feel wrong and weird to be wearing one in this body, but he put it on anyway. What was a little wrongness to him lately? It actually seemed to add spice to the person he'd become.

"Oh, you do look good. It suits you," Yukio said when he caught up to her.

Aya almost coughed at that, but he answered, "Thank you."

"I hope you don't mind that I'm doing your food in a microwave,"

It upset his expectations a bit first, but then he realized that it fit perfectly. Yukio was a devotee of instant gratification. He saw some of the appeal.... "Not at all."

She looked confused when they heard a sudden knocking. "I'll get the door," she said.

"You should, since it's your apartment."

"Funny." As the knocking became more forceful, Yukio asked, "Who the hell is that? Oh, the vegetables should be about ready. Help yourself, while I get rid of my guest."

"You're only wearing a long shirt."

"So are you. Hell, I'll give 'em a thrill." She left Aya alone in the kitchen.

Aya heard the door open and a loud, annoyed "Where is he?" Yoji? Fuck. How the hell did he get this address?

Aya had called Yukio with Omi's cell phone that time. He'd have to have a talk with Omi.

"Nice greeting. 'He' who?" Yukio asked. "You're really at the wrong place, blondie. Are you high?"

"There are only two places he would go, and I already checked the other."

"Maybe you have the wrong apartment. If you need help leaving, I'll be happy to assist you."

Yoji enjoyed making a scene. Aya saw only one way to stop this from escalating. He walked over to Yukio's side and said, "I'm here."

Yoji looked like he'd swallowed his tongue. Of course, he'd thought Aya had taken a woman on the side as a man. It probably didn't help that Aya was showing a lot of bare leg right now. Yeah, Yoji's eyes kept flicking between Aya's legs and unrestrained breasts.

"You know this asshole?" Yukio asked.

"He's the guy."

"_He's_ the guy? From that night? I have to save you from yourself, Aya. Aside from going with me, you have no taste. And can you explain his problems with personal pronouns?"

"What night?" Yoji asked, recovering. "What have you been telling her about me?"

Yukio opened her mouth, and Aya put his hand over it. "Not much," Aya answered.

"Not much?"

"I can't make you happy, can I?"

Yoji opened, then closed his mouth, then opened it again. Then he said, "There are so many ways I can tackle that one."

"This isn't the place to do this."

"Where the hell else?"

Yukio removed Aya's hand from her mouth and said, "Stairwell's private."

"Why are _you_ helping?" Yoji asked.

"You're in my doorway giving my neighbors something to talk about, and as much as I would love to hear what you two have to say to each other, it wouldn't be right."

"I'm sorry about this," Aya said.

"You can't be totally responsible for the way your boyfriend's an asshole."

"I'm not the one poaching," Yoji said as he glared. "It seems like at least _you_ knew about _me_."

"I see myself as more of a rescuer. I can't believe you didn't realize that Aya's a two-way street."

Aya sighed. "Can I leave you two alone so I can put my pants on without a catfight ensuing?"

"No," they both said.

"Then I'll go out to the stairwell like this."

"No! That shirt covers even less on you than mine does on me!" Yukio said.

Yoji took off his long coat and handed it over. As Aya put it on, he heard Yukio mutter, "Nice belly."

Yoji heard it too. "I have no belly."

"And you wanna announce it to the world. I can see. So can everyone else."

Aya slipped his boots on without socks, grabbed Yoji's arm, and pulled him out of there. Yukio grinned at Aya, gave Yoji a razor-edged smile, and said, "See you later," before closing the door.

"Are you insane?" Yoji yelled.

"Stairwell." Which might well enable the whole building to hear them, but Aya would feel more protected there. "And no." Once they went inside, Aya sat on a step and said, "I understand how you found me. I want to know why."

  


* * *

How could Aya be so calm? Oh yeah, insanity. Yoji asked, "Why? Have you ever noticed that you get weird after you do your mojo?"

Aya widened his eyes to affect a brainless look. "No. I never noticed."

"You just about passed out, then you slipped out when we weren't watching. We got worried."

"I'm never using Omi's cell phone again."

"Aya, you're fucking a woman as a woman. You're not a woman."

Yoji hadn't had any problem with Aya having a woman on the side, really, but he'd thought Aya had been a man with a woman on the side. Who the hell would figure that Aya was a woman with a cute but too boyish-looking lesbian on the side?

If a man wearing a woman's body fucked a woman who looked a lot like a boy, what the hell did you call it?

"Isn't your real problem that I don't want to be a woman for you?"

Aya even argued like a woman. But Aya had often argued like a woman even as a man, even before his first change. Maybe this _was_ destiny. Damn, Yoji wanted to wash out his brain. "No!"

"I'm a woman with her because that's how she knows me. I won't be a woman for you because you want me to be a woman to make our liaison less shameful to you. It's a big difference."

Aya was _not_ getting it. Aya was a woman who had a post-fuck glow as she serenely sat there wearing Yoji's longcoat. Aya shouldn't be.

And did she have to be so fucking sexy? It made things so much harder. In so many ways.

"I'm not ashamed; I just didn't expect you to be a woman at all! What if you can't change back?"

Aya flipped back to male so quickly that Yoji couldn't see the changes in progress, just the final result, stayed like that for about a minute, then returned to female form, staring at him with an annoyed look on his face the whole time.

"You couldn't hold it very long," Yoji said.

"I can do it as long as I need to." And Aya was male again. Then female. "I was making a point." He put his hand to his head, looking a bit dizzy, almost making Yoji sorry to have pushed him.

Almost. "How far do you think you'd get with your girl if she saw what you really look like? What if she knew you are _not_ really a woman?"

"I told her that I'm a man in a woman's body. She didn't seem concerned."

Aya now knew how to lie with the truth. That made him very dangerous.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"You barely believe it, and you've known about it and seen it for months."

"You're not actually a woman."

"I am right now. Do you have something against women?"

"I love women. Everyone knows that."

Aya sighed and made a hand gesture of annoyance that Yoji wasn't sure of but that probably meant 'Sure, whatever.' He'd never seen Aya do that one before.

"What are you getting out of this?" Yoji had to ask.

Looking ever more annoyed, Aya answered, "She has a bigger dick than yours."

Yoji's heart stopped. "What?"

"At least one of them is. She keeps them in a box under her bed."

Yoji refused to be distracted. The mental images would have to wait. Was he turned on or horrified? No, it would have to wait. "You must be having problems with this. You would have told us otherwise."

"She's not a porn lesbian, Yoji. The thought of a man being involved in her sex acts, even just to watch, does nothing for her."

Yoji saved that thought for later too. "That wasn't what I was thinking!" Before. "You're not a lesbian."

"I'm attracted to women. Right now I'm a woman." Aya smiled darkly, wickedly. "In any case, she knows I'm bisexual."

"_She_ knows?"

"You didn't? What did you think I was?"

Yoji had tried very hard not to think about it, and he would never admit that to Aya. Put on the spot, he said, "I was starting to think that maybe you always only liked men, or that being a woman had, uhm--"

"Warped my sexuality? Amazing what a month can do."

"You never seemed to _have_ any sexuality before you became a woman!"

"Thanks."

"You could give a guy some clues! There was this thing with me--" and Schuldig, "and then I remembered how you were with Sakura."

"You thought I was doing her."

"Only at first. Then I saw how you acted around her and changed my mind."

Aya raised an eyebrow. "Yet you kept needling me about her."

"It was fun, okay?"

"Sakura's too young, and her looks remind me of my sister. In any case, as harsh as it may sound, she may be a nice girl, but she's a lot like a puppy."

"And you don't date outside your species?"

"Exactly."

"All right. This is getting away from the real topic here, which is that you should have told us you were going to see this girl." And were willingly changing gender to do it.

"The same way that I immediately told all of you about my sister's situation and that I visited her at the hospital during the times I disappeared?"

They'd known Aya for years without getting that story or anything about Aya's hatred for Takatori Reiji. Omi had chanced on the truth and confronted Aya about it. They hadn't even known his real name, though they'd speculated on what kind of parents would name their son 'Aya.' "I'm still ticked off about that one too."

"It just wasn't anyone's business either way, and I wasn't the only person in Weiß with secrets."

Yoji couldn't rebut that one, so he said, "This just doesn't make sense. You hated being a woman."

"Most of the time. It had his moments, and I became... accustomed to it."

"Are you aware that you're insane?"

"No, I'm--" Aya stopped and tilted his head to the side, as if listening to something.

This looked bad. "Aya?"

"No. Shut up," Aya murmured angrily, and Yoji would bet anything Aya wasn't talking to him.

  


* * *

Yoji was not getting it. Hardly surprising.

~ The normals don't get it, Aya. They never do. ~

Schuldig. In his _head_.

"No. Shut up," Aya answered.

~ I could say nothing, but it wouldn't change anything. He can't understand. ~

"But you do?"

~ I'm a telepath. I understand a lot of things I've never personally done. You ever get tired of people who won't let you be what you are? ~

"Not everyone is."

~ Omi's open-minded, but he looks so young that you can't even think about him without feeling guilty. Anyone else? Oh yeah, there isn't. ~

Schuldig said the things that would best suit Schuldig's aims. Aya tried to tell himself that the truth had nothing to do with it. "Who would be a better choice? You? You're a sadist."

~ Yet I'm still a better catch than Kudou. I'm sure you've noticed his perpetual state of heterosexual panic too. ~

"Shut up."

~ Is this proper thanks for the guy who got Kritiker to bring you back here? You'd still be cooling your heels in Kanazawa if not for me. ~

"I'm supposed to thank you for attacking me?"

~ I'm the one who walked away bruised, and you didn't exactly fight that kiss.... ~

Yoji was shaking him by his shoulders. "Shit! Aya!"

~ See you later. You know I'll be around. ~

"Aya!"

Aya broke free of Yoji's hold. "I'm back. I'm fine."

He looked so worried. "Schuldig talked to you?"

"Who else?"

Yoji hugged him tightly, inspiring a moment of squirming panic before Aya decided that it felt nice and he liked it. Perhaps Yoji understood that he'd accepted it, because then he rested his hand on the back of Aya's head and stroked his hair.

"I worry about you," Yoji said softly. "It doesn't mean that I don't think you can take care of yourself. It just means that I care about you."

"I don't have much experience with that."

"Mostly by choice, it looked like."

"True." Aya felt oddly compelled to give him an answer to the question all of his other questions tonight had sprung from, and it was easier to say this with his face buried in Yoji's shoulder instead of looking at him. "If we can trust anything Schuldig says... he told me that I saved my sister's life that night but pushed myself too hard and bound myself to her. So part of me is female."

"If we can trust anything he says."

"I remember some things that support it."

"If you can trust your memory."

Evil thought. Aya clutched him a little tighter and warmed his fingers against the bared skin of the small of Yoji's back. "We have to trust something, or we're left with nothing, and he still wins."

"All right." Yoji took a deep breath. "So you're saying that part of you _is_ a woman. That's--"

"Strange? Scary? Disgusting?"

"All right. It's all right."

"I suppose that in some ways it makes things easier for you."

"Maybe."

"I wanted a vacation, Yoji, from myself and from being an assassin. It looks like I have to learn to keep my hormones or _something_ under control, though."

"Maybe you did before."

"What?"

"While you were set on your vengeance. Maybe you subconsciously adjusted yourself so you wouldn't be distracted by lust, and now there's a build-up."

"That's stupid. I felt lust. Not like I feel it now, but I did."

"Sure, Aya."

Aya took a deep breath and lightly pushed at Yoji's chest to get him to let go. "We have to go back and report Schuldig's latest trick."

Yoji let him go but asked, "Are you going to come back here in the future?"

Aya should just lie, but somehow he couldn't. "I don't know. I didn't expect to come here today." He hadn't thought this through very well.

"Don't know?" Yoji looked very annoyed, and why not?

"I like her." This could lose Yoji. It would hurt. It hurt right now. But it would hurt far more later.

"You couldn't lie to me?"

"I wanted to."

It was impossible to tell what Yoji was thinking from the look on his face. "You make me crazy."

"I make myself crazy."

"I have to think about this."

"Of course." Aya knew what the result would be. It would be a relief in a way, since he'd been expecting to lose Yoji somehow for a long time, and the tense waiting would be over at last.

Yoji's expression changed. "You sabotaged yourself deliberately."

"What?"

"Maybe not consciously--"

"Are you using an alternate definition of 'deliberately' that I'm not aware of?"

"--but a part of you set up the worst planned secret rendezvous ever to make sure I'd find out."

"That's ridiculous." Galling as it might be to admit it-- "I didn't intend to do anything like that. I didn't plan this through."

"Exactly!"

Sometimes Yoji made Aya's brain hurt, but he'd earned this misery. For too long he'd been blaming everything on the body, hormones and endorphins, but there was more to the high than that. There was the high of being someone else. The high of being someone who could do anything. The poisonous high of throwing dignity, honor, and control aside.

The high of having excuses.

Lately, he could add the highs of power and mastering his changes.

He'd enjoyed himself and thought to escape responsibility for his own actions. Actually, not all that much thinking had been involved, as he'd let sensation and desires direct him. Yoji would probably say that it was the inevitable breakdown after years of repression, but that was another excuse.

Yoji smiled darkly. "You figure I'm going to leave you eventually, so you might as well get it over with, right?"

Aya stared at him in surprise and couldn't think of an answer. Why should he reply, when it was self-evident?

  


* * *

Yoji felt so hurt and angry, but Aya's obvious confusion at her-- _his_ own motives and actions lessened it a little. Yoji had always figured that after all that rigid self-control Aya would snap and go wild someday but hadn't expected to be the collateral damage when it happened. Of course not, since he'd seen their thing together as part of the snap, not just the tip of the iceberg.

Aya sat there looking miserable, sick, and a bit shell-shocked, utterly unlike the satisfied and righteously annoyed Aya that had come to the door. Good. He should know what it felt like. But also not good.

Aya's mouth trembled for a moment before he visibly retained control over it. "I met her while I was walking home that night when you recoiled from me."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Right to the heart. No wonder Aya couldn't quite let her go, if he'd tangled her up in his sex and self-esteem issues. If anybody had told Yoji a year ago that Aya had problems with self-esteem he would have laughed himself sick, since Aya had never seemed to give a damn about what others thought of him. Only later did he start to get an idea of how much self-directed hatred roiled behind the stone face.

Aya stood, forcing Yoji to look up, and seemed to find strength as he spoke. "At a time when you blatantly wanted nothing to do with me, she found me and treated me to dinner with her friends. I had a good time. She made me feel attractive and wanted instead of disgusting and freakish."

"She doesn't really know who you are," Yoji said weakly, only realizing how it could be taken after it came out of his mouth. Oh, good going, Kudou.

But Aya didn't take it as badly as he could have. "Which makes her even more attractive to me. I don't know what to do, Yoji. I've never been in this situation before."

"Nobody gives out a handbook."

"I've noticed." Aya ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, disheveling it further. She really did have that freshly fucked look. "We should go tell the others about Schuldig's latest communication."

Watching Aya made it hard to think. Made him hard. Yoji had always enjoyed seeing women in his clothing: the feeling of possession, the look of their curves filling it out in different ways, and the way their scent lingered when he got it back. Aya usually being a man just added a weird extra edge. It worried Yoji that he could feel so angry, concerned, and muddled yet still want to bend Aya over the railing, lift _his_ coat up, and fuck her into next week, show her what she was missing. Knowing that Aya wasn't wearing anything at all under Yoshida's men's shirt made it even harder to stay rational. Yoji wanted to _grab_....

Aya had been walking back to Yoshida's apartment while he'd sat there struggling with himself. She looked over her shoulder, worry in her violet eyes, and said, "Yoji--" Then something flared in her eyes and her stance changed, turned defensive and dangerous, as if she'd seen the sex and violence in his look.

He. Him. Aya.

Yoji stood and followed him at a cautious distance. The sooner Aya got dressed and out of here, the sooner Yoji would be freed of temptation. At least freed of some of them.

Yoshida opened the door on Aya's second knock and not so playfully tried to close it behind Aya in Yoji's face. Bitch. She'd changed into a tank top and tight black jeans during their time away, making her look less vulnerable and more attractive. She still wasn't Yoji's type, but he could see how she'd be some people's, especially after Aya gave her a look.

"I'm sorry, Yukio," Aya said. "Work called. I have to go."

"Work _called_?" she asked, obviously aware that Aya didn't carry a cell phone. Yoji raised his own and waggled it at her. "It's the middle of the night!" she protested next.

"Bookkeeping problem," Yoji said smoothly. "If it doesn't get addressed immediately, things will go to hell and a lot of money will be lost."

"I'm sorry," Aya said.

"No problem, Nikita," she answered lightly, though she kept shooting annoyed looks in Yoji's direction.

"What?"

"Foreign film. Never mind."

Aya took off Yoji's coat and handed it to him. Fuck, that shirt.... It barely covered Aya's ass, and Yoji could see the shadows of her-- _his_ nipples through the white cloth. The urge to grab returned. Yoji told himself that biting down on his own hand in front of Yoshida wouldn't make him look any classier.

"I'm getting dressed. If you two kill each other while I'm gone, I'll just step over your bodies on my way out." Aya closed the bedroom door behind him.

Yoji and Yoshida stared each other down for several charged minutes before she said, "Whatever job she really works is killing her, you know."

Chickie, you have no idea. "We're florists."

Her voice dripped with scorn. "Yeah, right, traveling florists."

"It wasn't my idea."

"What kind of florist job puts those kinds of scars on a body?"

Shit. Yoji had had so many women over the years but never once wondered what they thought of his scars or if they even noticed them. Not that it had mattered, since he rarely saw those women again. "He-- she was in a car accident."

He was doing a shit job of this, but he shouldn't have to be the one to field these questions. Aya had unmade this bed, so let him lie in it.

She shook her head, utterly unconvinced. "I care, okay?"

"It's not your place to."

"You can't make me believe that you'd never poached somebody else's girl, so don't get superior with me. At least 40% of my girlfriends came to me straight from guys like you."

Her sense of entitlement chafed the shit out of him. "Do yourself a favor. Don't get involved. Really."

"Oh good, I didn't miss the end of the pissing contest," Aya said as he returned. From the tight black pants, clingy shirt, and bra that didn't bind his breasts as tightly to his torso as his mission one did, it seemed that Aya had dressed up a bit for Yoshida. Great. He topped it off with the black leather jacket he wore in both forms. "Yukio--"

"I know. You're sorry." She kissed Aya lightly and without looking at Yoji even once, trying to make it seem like she wasn't making a show for him. Like hell. Yoji sneered. She ruffled Aya's hair and said, "Take good care of yourself and don't be a stranger."

Aya's expression twisted a little at that. Yoji resisted the urge to make a smart-assed comment and tried not to think. The not thinking didn't work, though. What Aya had said about dicks meant that Yoshida had fucked him--woman him--something Yoji still hadn't gotten the opportunity to do, which was just wrong. That and the possessive urge to reclaim Aya for himself made it difficult to keep his hands to himself, but he had to. He knew this mood Aya was in, and it could flip over to berserker-style violence if pushed.

"Good night," Aya said. Yoji didn't say anything.

They walked down the hallway and out into the street without a word. So much had been said already tonight. Aya finally broke the silence with "I'll drive myself back." Yeah, he'd driven over here.

"Fine."

They stared at each other. The streetlights turned Aya's hair another color, and Yoji said, "I don't know who the hell you are sometimes."

"I don't know either," Aya answered softly. Yoji watched him walk away.

  


* * *

When Aya arrived at the trailer, he saw that all the lights were on and Yoji had gotten back first. This might be unpleasant. He wondered what Yoji had told them.

"What were you thinking?" Omi said as soon as he walked in the door. Ken looked surprised when he saw him, then shook his head.

Now the whole team would be privy to his lapses of control and involved in his personal life? It made him feel like a bug under a microscope. "I wasn't really thinking. I was being spontaneous."

Yoji, lounging on the couch, snorted.

"We worried," Omi said.

"I'm sorry." Aya felt heartily sick of those words. Not that long ago, he never used them.

"Tell them about what Schuldig did tonight," Yoji said.

"What about Schuldig, Aya?"

After everything that had happened, Yoji saved him from a further rehashing of his lovelife? Aya cast him a grateful look, then said, "While I was at Yukio's building, he spoke directly into my head to toy with me."

"What is he getting out of this?" Ken asked. "How do we make him stop?"

"He's a sadist. I'm not sure what the best method of stopping him would be." Though Aya had devoted a lot of time to thinking up possibilities.

"We can't count on him getting bored or getting work outside of Japan." Looking fierce and nearly possessive, Omi glanced at Aya and Yoji. "We're not going to give him what he wants and hope that'll be enough. We may have to kill him." He sounded so cold....

Aya felt something in his chest spasm and told himself that it was over Omi feeling the need to be ruthless in his defense and not over killing the telepath. Yoji looked upset too, but he _would_ look upset if Schuldig had been telling the truth about his dreams. Killing Schuldig made sense. But--

"We have to get a mission for that," Ken said softly.

"Or make sure one comes up that fills our needs."

Omi knew, as Aya did, that their sanction as Weiß didn't make them any the less murderers. It just gave them a patron to protect them and an excuse for their actions, as if 'executions' weren't murder. He simply never expected--or wanted--Omi to be so open about it. Not Omi.

Ken looked at Omi with his heart obviously breaking. "There has to be another way." Not because he cared about Schuldig, but because he cared about what he thought it would do to Omi to think this way.

"Do you really think he'll stop on his own? Someone has to stop him."

Aya had brought Omi to this by attracting Schuldig's attention, just as he'd snagged Yoji into that attention. These were some of the perils of being so entangled with other people; you could get them hurt or they could get hurt for the misfortune of knowing you. How did you dare do anything if you had to worry about it hurting everyone around you? Everything had been so much clearer when he'd only had his sister and his vengeance to be concerned with. It had been so much easier to be decisive, and he'd only allowed himself to feel guilt in one area.... He crossed his arms under his breasts and closed his eyes.

Aya twitched as an arm settled around his shoulders and drew him close to someone. Yoji. Aya let himself lean on him.

"3 a.m. isn't the time to be making these kinds of plans," Ken said.

"Okay. We'll shelve this for a while."

"Aya, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Aya asked and opened his eyes. That sounded intelligent.

"You're not stuck as a girl again, are you?" No wonder Ken had given him an odd look as he'd walked in. Ken would probably be even more confused than Yoji had been by his decision to willingly go out like this.

It confused Aya too.

"No, I'm fine. Just tired. I'm going to go in back and," Aya had to fight back a giggle that probably wouldn't have sounded sane, "change for bed. Good night." He kissed the side of Yoji's jaw, then pulled out of his loose embrace so he could leave. He'd realized that Yoji hadn't told them anything before he'd arrived.

  


* * *

"I don't think I'll ever understand Aya," Ken said.

"Join the club," Yoji answered as he watched Aya walk away with that girl swing to his girl hips. He didn't feel as angry about the whole lesbian on the side thing anymore, since the worrying took too much of his energy. "Hey, Kenken, I need to talk to Omi alone for a bit."

"Yeah, sure." Ken looked curious but didn't ask, just left for the bunk area. Maybe he'd started to realize how blissful ignorance was.

Once Ken had left the room, Yoji said, "Aya was going to see her as a _woman_. Why don't you look surprised?" Omi had been wearing that 'I know everything there is to know about Aya' look all day, and it pissed Yoji off.

"Aya called her the night before we left Tokyo, when he was a woman, so of course she knows him that way."

"Did you know she was a lesbian?"

Omi looked a little bit surprised at that at least. "No, but it isn't so far-fetched."

Yoji wanted to tear out his hair. No, better to tear out Omi's hair. But he still didn't do it. "This isn't healthy, and you're not helping him by being so accepting."

"You're passing judgment on his sexuality?" Omi sounded a bit frosty.

"No, on his identity issues."

"What identity issues?"

"When he goes out to do something he thinks is wrong, he becomes a woman to do it."

"Once that we know of! Besides, since Miss Yoshida is a lesbian, going to see her as a man makes no sense."

"You're the one supervising him through this whole shapechanging thing."

Omi looked incredulous. "Are you jealous of me? I'm helping with his training, but you're his _lover_. Wanna trade?"

"Can't you see he has a problem?"

"Right now his problem is you. For training he needs someone who doesn't have a 'this is so _wrong_' look on his face every time he does something--"

"I do not."

"--because that would lead to repression, not control. Besides, it shouldn't be a lover."

"So if one day he told you to take him now, you'd resign as his trainer."

"Yeah. Not that he's likely to start wanting me. Don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"The 'you're a Takatori after all' look, because that has nothing to do with anything. Aya needs help, and I'm not repulsed by what he can do. Unlike some people."

"I'm not repulsed!" When did Omi learn to snap and fight like this?

Omi took a deep breath. When had he started to look older? A darker blond, a little taller, a little more angular, less wide-eyed, less fluffy? "Yoji, you knew he had to be working on something like shapechanging because you were there when Kritiker starting drooling over it."

"I knew he can turn into a woman and that he can ghost through things." When had this become his life? "I didn't know about the rest of it."

"He started playing around with the rest on his own. I just make sure he doesn't go too far."

"Wait a minute, we weren't even talking about this! My problem was that he was seeing this Yoshida girl and doing it as a woman."

"His problem is that he saw the look on your face when you saw him disguised."

"I didn't have a look on my face."

"Sure, Yoji."

"I was surprised! You two didn't tell me what you were up to."

"Surprised right into horror. I might have gone for an ego boost somewhere else too, if I were him."

He hadn't done that. Had he? Shit. "I'm not taking full responsibility for this."

"And you shouldn't. There's plenty to go around. We have to be better than this."

"Agreed."

"That was an interesting reaction you two had when I said we had to kill Schuldig."

Shit. Yoji hadn't liked his upset reaction. Was he getting some assassin's version of that abused wife syndrome? "You sounded so ruthless."

That was almost a sneer on Omi's face. "And little Omi shouldn't?"

"Nobody should."

"Okay. Sorry." Slightly ashamed, Omi looked more like Omi. "We just can't let him divide us like this. Do you have any idea if he's doing this for pay or a hobby?"

"I think it's a hobby."

"Shit. That makes him more unpredictable."

"Yep. Omi, it's 3 a.m. Maybe we should get some sleep."

"You're right."

"Of course I'm right." But he had the feeling that Omi had noticed his slight topic shift over Schuldig.

When Yoji walked past Aya's bunk, Aya snagged his arm. "Yoji, I am sorry." Male, dressed for bed, he reclined on the bunk but looked tense.

"You hate those words, don't you?"

"'I'm sorry'? Don't you?"

"Yeah." Yoji put his hand over Aya's. "I know you are." Weird to think that Aya would need more control over his emotions and hormones. Then again, he'd seen Aya in a Takatori-induced mindless rage, so maybe Aya's problems with self-control weren't so unprecedented. It was the lust that kept surprising them....

"Let me make it up to you."

If Aya wanted to offer.... "I have some ideas."


	10. Chapter 10

"Let go of me," Aya said as they stood on the sidewalk outside the bar. Even when obstinate, he looked pretty, but part of that might have been that Yoji had talked him into going out as a woman. Guilt paid off.

"You're heartless," Yoji said, but he forced himself to stop clinging to Aya's arm.

Aya didn't look concerned. "What of it?"

"This was such a bad idea."

"It was _your_ idea."

"What? I thought it was yours!"

They stared at each other. After a moment Aya said, "Well, we're here now. We may as well go in."

"It couldn't be my idea."

"It couldn't be mine. I was only here once, and not under the best conditions."

"Terrible, horrible, very sexually frustrating things have happened to me every time I've set foot in here lately. Swear to me I'm getting some tonight, or I'm taking my marbles and going home."

Aya, of course, couldn't just do that. "You were here with _Schuldig_ last time--"

"Don't start."

"Anyway, you're not the one who manhandled you in public."

"No, I'm not. I wouldn't have to leave the trailer for that. I could just sit outside on the grass...."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because this place pulls the best beer in Tokyo, and I'm damned if I'm gonna be chased out of my favorite bar by a few bad experiences."

"So it was your idea, then." Aya had a sudden odd look on his face. "And are you saying that me getting smashed and professing my desperate need for your body was a bad experience?"

"Aya--"

Aya looked at him from under his lashes. "No, really. I'm curious."

Damn it, could he be _more_ of a woman? Soon he'd be asking Yoji if his mission wear made his ass look big. At least Yoji wouldn't have to lie. He evaluated his options and decided to go with the truth in this case as well, which was probably a new record for him.

He said bluntly, "Not being able to take you up on your offer was a bad experience."

Aya's lip twitched. Yoji repressed the burning desire to lick it. "I would be flattered, but I'm sure you say that to every good pair of breasts."

"Not just any. Yours are special."

Luckily Aya seemed amused by that, and therefore unlikely to kick him in the balls for it.

Yoji held out his arm and said gallantly, "Shall we?"

Aya gave him an irritated look, but Yoji was starting to learn how to read those looks, and there was definitely affection beneath the irritation. He smiled.

Aya rested her-- his-- hand on Yoji's arm, and that helped too.

Yoji took a deep breath, said, "Here goes," and pushed the door open. They stepped into Mikae's pub.

She was behind the bar, as Yoji knew she would be. He wondered if she had always been there. She looked up as they entered and said, without enthusiasm, "You guys."

Yoji felt his face break into a grin. "Mik! Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"When I see one I'll let you know. And don't call me that."

Aya looked dubious. Yoji said, "Don't worry, she's always like this."

Mikae cocked an eyebrow. "I take it you two resolved your, ahem, _differences_?"

Now Aya looked suspicious. "Yoji...."

"Let's get a booth," Yoji said hurriedly.

"Oh, no, this is fascinating. What did you tell her?"

Mikae was smirking. Yoji could see the possibility of post-date sex getting smaller and smaller. "You're an evil, evil woman," he moaned. "Both of you."

Mikae said, "You know, I still don't see it."

"See what?" Aya demanded.

"Booth. Now." Yoji marched towards one of the corner booths, dragging Aya behind him and cursing sadistic bartenders, not to mention his own bloody inclination towards situational symmetry, under his breath.

"Yoji--"

"Look, I had to talk to someone, all right? And I couldn't very well tell her the truth--"

"What. Did you. Tell her?"

Yoji tried to disappear into the vinyl booth. When that didn't work, he squeaked, "Itoldheryouwereatransvestite_don'tkillme_!"

Aya blinked. "...Oh."

Then a truly disturbing smile crossed his face-- hell, it was almost a grin, which was disturbing in itself-- and then Aya closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. He opened his eyes again, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

Yoji breathed, "What did you do?"

Aya looked serene. "I'm a transvestite."

"Eep." Yoji felt himself pale. Had he really just squeaked like that? And Aya was just sitting there across from him, girl-flavor Aya, with a-- a--

He shifted in his seat, trying to adjust himself, and wondered when exactly he had turned into such a sick fuck.

Aya said primly, "I'm ready to order."

Mikae appeared at their table like an evil genie summoned from her bottle. At Yoji's stare-- he'd never seen her work the tables as well as the bar-- she chirped, "Slow night."

Yoji closed his eyes and let his head fall to the table with a thunk. Of course Mikae was waiting on them. Why not?

He heard her say, "No table-dancing tonight, okay, Red?" and looked up hurriedly to catch Aya's reaction. Aya didn't disappoint; his eyes went wide, his face went red, and his mouth opened and closed. After a moment he said faintly, "Just fruitmilk, please."

Yoji contemplated asking Mikae to spike Aya's drink, then dismissed the thought. After all, as he knew that from experience, Aya didn't _need_ alcohol to let loose. Especially when she was sitting there with a... a....

"Beer, please," he squeaked, and fled to the lavatory.

He heard Aya behind him, reassuring Mikae that everything was fine and, no, she didn't need to call the police, and then the near-silent footfalls approaching the-- mercifully empty-- washroom. As soon as Aya stepped inside, Yoji shoved him back against the door and proceeded to kiss and stroke him into a desperate, quivering mass of need. Of course, the problem with that was that he ended up reducing himself to about the same state.

When he pulled away, gasping for air, Aya looked flustered but amused. "A slightly different reaction from the first time."

"You're an acquired taste," Yoji said breathlessly, and ground their hips together for emphasis. Aya inhaled sharply, and Yoji did too as he felt the oh so delightfully _wrong_ hardness beneath Aya's tight pants.

Aya gasped, "Clothed again?" and Yoji murmured, "Nothing wrong with that."

As he kissed and sucked a path along Aya's neck, he had his hands exploring the new dimensions of Aya's body--hard here, soft here, soft here, hard _here_\--but Aya put a hand on his shoulder and murmured, "Yoji, no-- wait--"

Yoji stilled himself with some effort. "What? What is it?"

Aya said, "I have a better idea."

Aya let his hands slide under Yoji's coat and drop meaningfully to his ass. Yoji stiffened and took a nervous step back. "Listen, Aya, I don't--"

Aya stepped forward. "You made me play a prostitute," he said dangerously.

"You enjoyed it!"

"And so will you."

"I don't have any--"

"I do," Aya said, patting his hip pocket. He smiled menacingly. "I have several."

"You bastard," Yoji said admiringly. "You were planning this."

"Something like it, yes, and you _did_ say you were expecting post-date sex."

How could he explain to Aya that in their bizarre little relationship, he'd always thought of himself as the seme? After all, he'd always been the one to make the first move, he'd generally taken the lead, and really, he just didn't _feel_ like an uke. More to the point, how could he convey that information without getting himself killed?

The look in Aya's eyes suggested that he might not survive making such a declaration. The look in Aya's eyes made him suddenly not want to.

The look in Aya's eyes was doing very dangerous things to his mental processes.

Fucked like a woman, Schuldig had said. Well, Yoji would show him fucked. Yoji took a deep breath, mustered every reserve of courage and bullshit bravado that he could, and said, "Okay."

Aya's brilliant, beautiful smile went a long way towards loosening the knot in his stomach.

Aya pulled him into a stall and threw the latch, and before he knew what was happening Yoji found himself shoved back against the door, being kissed and groped and humped until he couldn't think straight. He moaned into Aya's mouth, running his hands through her soft, soft hair, and felt her purring against him. Her cock thrust rhythmically against his own, its hardness unabated. She pushed his coat off his shoulders and slid it down his arms and let it drop to the floor, kicking it away. He couldn't even protest.

Then strong, callused hands were moving him, turning him to face the door, and Yoji put his own hands out to brace himself. They trembled against the cool, smooth stall door. Feeling horribly exposed, he pressed them flat to still them and closed his eyes.

Aya's hands traced teasing paths down his chest, slim, powerful hands, girl-Aya hands, circling down to his bare midriff and then sliding up his shirt, then trailing back down below his waist to skim over his still-covered cock. Yoji cried out and tried to thrust into Aya's hands, but they were bad hands, they were very evil hands, they were gone....

They were settling on his waistband, undoing the button of his leather pants. Yoji felt his stomach twist in sudden fear, and trying to cover, trying to be flippant, he said, "You ever done this before?"

"Have you?"

"I took Teru like this from behind in a restaurant's women's room," and it had been _hot_, "but I don't think that's what you're talking about, so I have to say no."

"Then we're matched. Except for the bit about Teru."

Hadn't ever? "Aya!"

Those hands reached into the front of his open pants and stroked. "Relax," Aya purred, her/his voice soft and dark, and those hands and that voice made it easy. Or, rather, hard. "People with far less intelligence than we have do this kind of thing all the time without hurting themselves."

"Somehow that's not reassuring."

"Yoji-kun, it feels so good to get fucked by you. I can't tell you. I have to show you."

Fuck, Aya knew how to talk to him, but he couldn't give it up too easily. "Oh yeah, you just want to share the magic of the moment with me out of the goodness of your heart."

Aya thrust against Yoji's ass, and his shirt was so thin that he could feel her breasts press into his back in the process, making Yoji groan, "Sometime we have to do this when we're both naked." He'd have to get more clothes off the both of them soon but found it hard to think straight at the moment. As callused fingers danced over his cock and Aya's breasts and cock rocked against him, he said, "You know, you're not really a transvestite. You're like a transsexual or a hermaphrodite or something."

"You're thinking about this now?" Aya peeled the leather down over his hips, and Yoji shivered as cool air blew over his sweat-slicked skin.

And waited.

After a moment, he inquired sweetly, "Would you like a manual?"

"Very funny." Aya's hands settled on his ass. One slick finger started drifting lower, lower....

"Ow! Hey!"

"Sorry."

He actually did sound sorry. Yoji sighed. "Just... take it easy, yeah?"

"Ah," Aya said. Now he sounded amused. "Yes, it is your first time. I should be gentle."

Yoji squirmed. "That's not exactly what I meant." It made him sound so... inexperienced.

Aya's lips brushed his ear, and he shivered again. "I'm the only one to ever do this, aren't I?"

"Well, _yes_," Yoji said testily. "What did you think 'first time' meant?"

"You've been with half of Tokyo, yet I'm treading on virgin territory. I feel like I should be planting a flag."

"Enough with the virgin talk, okay? And you're also the only one who knows what I do for a living, if you need to feel more special or something."

"I feel very special." Aya slid down his back to crouch behind him and started to hotly mouth the small of his back, her chin rubbing against his bare ass. Yoji writhed, then writhed even more as she slid her finger up inside him more smoothly this time, the weird but almost pleasant burn and pressure finally giving way to sparks of pleasure. "So tight," Aya sighed as he pulled Yoji's pants and underwear down to his ankles.

"Shut up," Yoji panted, his voice rising on the word 'up' as he felt himself being stretched more. Another finger? Aya worked him slowly and thoroughly, exquisitely, bringing him to such a fever pitch that he was humping the door, just about painting it he was so ready. "Aya, Aya...."

"Take off your shirt, Yoji-kun," Aya said huskily.

"Hunh?" He didn't have too many working brain cells left.

"Take off your shirt."

Yoji didn't know if he could remain standing if he stopped leaning on the door, but he gave it a shot. Standing up straight made the fingers inside him shift angle, which made him whimper. He pulled his shirt off over his head and resumed his position. At which point the fingers pulled out of him.

"Aya!" He ached and felt so horribly open.

"Shh. And don't look back."

Which of course made Yoji desperately want to look back, especially as he heard the creak of moving leather, the soft jingle of buckles, a tiny sound of clasps being undone, and the soft snap of a condom going on. He felt Aya like heat against him. The heat came closer, closer.... Her breasts and hard nipples, all bare, brushed against his back as Aya carefully guided his cock up and in. Yoji groaned at the sensations, perversity, and twinging pain of entry.

"Yoji," Aya sounded worried, "am I--"

Wanting to get on to where it got good, Yoji pushed down hard, gasping almost in time with Aya. It burned, it hurt, it felt so weird... but then Aya shifted and the sparks flew again. "Yeah, oh yeah," Yoji panted. Aya started to rock into him, brushing that sweet spot most of the time. Her breasts pressed and rubbed harder into his back as she reached for his cock, but he stopped her hands from moving along it. "No, I have plans for that later. Grip it tight, though, and fuck me harder."

Aya thrust harder and harder as he goaded her on with "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," "Oh yeah," and "Don't be such a girl about it," the last of which earned him a thrust so hard that it amazed him Aya didn't knock his back teeth out with the tip of her cock, but it was _good_. The door clanked under the abuse. She grunted, her voice deeper than any woman's he'd ever heard but still not a man's, and he could feel her breasts sweating against his skin. It was so beyond perverse that it was beautiful.

He wanted to come, and the sensations shooting up his ass into his back and through his body made him want to come, but he held on. His cock still had something to do before it could finish. But it was so hard and so good. Looking down at the pale, delicate yet callused hands clasped tightly around the base of his cock like a ring, he groaned again. "Love you...."

Aya cried out and exploded in two hard, fast thrusts, then sagged against his back, panting, her fingers uncurling from around his cock. He had to move fast before he went off. Putting his hand back, he helped her slide her cock out of him and said, "Aya, take your pants all the way off."

"What?" Aya sounded dazed and breathless.

"Your turn."

Aya went still against him, then moved away, returning only briefly to hand him a condom. Yoji didn't dare look, so he concentrated on putting it on with his fumbling, sex-stupid fingers and kicked his pants and underwear off. When he turned around, Aya wore only a pair of black thigh highs below the waist. Thigh highs? Well, shit. Her shirt was that strappy number that opened from the front, while her bra unclasped in front, so she still had them hanging from her sides and her back covered. Her beautiful breasts hung free. Her violet eyes seemed nearly black from how dilated her pupils were, and her hair looked wilder and darker. Fuck, she looked wanton and debauched. As for the cock, it was smaller than what she had as a man and thus more proportional to her frame. Yoji remembered being straight once but didn't miss it right now.

Magnetically drawn forward, he ran his hand down her ass and between her legs. She was so wet for him, so ready. "Yoji," she moaned, her eyes closing as he stroked her.

He picked her up, set her atop his cock, and thrust into her, biting his lip as she wrapped her legs around his waist, clawed at his back, and moaned deeper. They needed to use the wall for support as he finally fucked her, gasping at the way she clenched around him. As he cupped her ass and stroked her clit, he felt her cock start to get hard against him again, and _there_ was a series of events he never would have imagined. It just made him hotter. He knew he wouldn't last long--

The door to the men's room opened. Aya shuddered and bit her lip, and Yoji tried to use the power of his will to make whomever do his business fast and pay no attention to the clothes strewn about under the stalls. At least only one pair of legs showed under the stall door, though what the guy would make of the direction they were facing in or their nakedness he didn't want to know.

From the sounds he heard, it seemed that the guy just wanted to take a piss, which he wouldn't need a stall for. Good. But Yoji's cock had finally reached a destination it had wanted to get to for months and had no intention of waiting any longer, and it had his hips as accomplices. He couldn't help rocking and thrusting a little. Aya felt so good around him. Breathing hard, heart pounding, eyes rolling back into her head a bit, Aya bit her lip harder and ground down against him. At least he wasn't stupid alone.

As the sink ran, Yoji silently wished the guy to finish washing his hands fast. But the sink kept running. How thorough did he have to be?

Aya shuddered convulsively on the next finger stroke and tiny thrust. There was one orgasm.

Leave already! Yoji wanted to scream. Finally the sink stopped running, and a shuffle of feet and the sound of the door closing signaled their deliverance from torment. But he couldn't quite get it moving into full gear again. Shit, it was like when you had to take a piss but held it way too long, and it took time for your muscles to unclench to start no matter how much pain you were in.

Aya put one hand down to his cock near where it had entered her and stroked hard. Yoji blacked out as he exploded.

Aya making sounds of discomfort brought him back. Shit, he'd pressed Aya into the wall rather hard. As he let go, she slid down him muttering something about not being able to find her knees. As she rested against him, she said huskily, "That was remarkably stupid," but she had a big grin on her face.

Yoji felt so satisfied and smug. "What's wrong? Can't stand on your own?"

"You try climaxing several times in two areas in a few minutes and see what you can do afterward."

Two? Aya wasn't hard anymore. Had she-- he gone off both ways at the same time? Sometimes Yoji almost envied him. Sometimes. Almost. Yoji kissed him and tasted blood on his lip.

"We really need to wash up and get dressed," Aya said. "Your friend will have enough to talk about as it is."

  


* * *

"You know, kids, we do have standards of sanitation to maintain," Mikae said as they walked out.

"Shut up, Mik," Yoji replied cheerfully. Right now, nothing could bring him down.

She rolled her eyes. "Your beverages await, _lord_."

"Ooh, fruitmilk," Aya said, sliding into his seat. "Yummy."

_Yummy?_ Yoji mouthed, incredulous. He shook his head, settling into the booth and lighting a cigarette, and Mikae slid in beside him and propped her chin on her hands. Yoji stared at her, and she smiled brightly back at him. "So. How did you two crazy kids meet?"

"What, we're pals now? Whatever happened to 'If I see one I'll let you know'?"

"Oh, that's just my crusty exterior. I'm a fluffy bunny underneath."

"I shudder to think."

"She wants the gory details," Aya said calmly, sipping at his fruitmilk.

Yoji smirked. "Yeah, I figured."

Mikae's smile widened. "I wanna know who tops."

Mildly outraged, Yoji ignored her and took a long swallow of beer, only to choke on it when Aya said, "Me."

He slammed the mug down on the table, coughing alcohol out from his lungs. Mikae slapped him halfheartedly on the back. He heard her say, "I figured as much."

"You bastard," he wheezed, once he could talk again.

"I thought we already established that." Aya licked her lips and smiled, and damned if Yoji wasn't hard again.

Perpetual arousal in Aya's immediate vicinity. Maybe that was _his_ special power.

Then Mikae said, "So what's up with that gaijin? The one with the orange hair and the scads of cash?"

Yoji would have choked again if he'd had anything in his mouth. Aya's smile had faded. God, he was going to _kill_ Mikae.

"What about him?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"I was trying to figure you two out, but I don't know. You didn't seem to like each other very much, but there was definitely _something_ there. And don't give me that look. I'm impervious."

"That does it," Yoji said absently, staring at Aya. "No tip for you." Aya was avoiding his gaze. Damn it, he _knew_ Schuldig had been stalking Yoji as well; why was he acting so weird about it all of a sudden? Almost... _hurt_?

Mikae, displaying uncharacteristic sensitivity and tact, rose with a muttered excuse and retreated back to the bar. She must have picked up on the mood shift. Yoji kept staring at Aya, trying to gauge his mood, but Aya had completely shut down.

Yoji sighed. He was tired, his ass hurt, and he wasn't even drunk yet. It seemed inconceivable that only a few moments ago he was as euphoric as he'd ever been. "Let's go," he said shortly, standing. Aya didn't argue.

True to his word, he left Mikae the exact amount of the bill-- no more, no less.

The ride home was silent, charged with the kind of sullen tension that Aya was so good at. Yoji reached out once, tentatively, but Aya didn't respond and after a moment he withdrew his hand.

_He didn't respond. He's responsive like you wouldn't believe._ Typical Aya, running hot and cold. Anything he did, he did to extremes. There was no such thing as middle ground.

Still, Yoji couldn't quite figure out why the mention of Schuldig had set him off. The question plagued him the whole way home.

  


* * *

Aya barely noticed Yoji's desperate stares and his half-hearted peace attempts. His mind was spinning, but it kept coming back to one thing.

Schuldig. That was the sticking point, wasn't it? He'd been naïve to think he and Yoji could ever have any kind of normal relationship, even aside from what his own freakish abilities could do. Schuldig would always be between them, distracting them, _tempting_ them, and sooner or later one of them would end up dead. Or worse. Aya had no fear for his own life, but he couldn't bear the thought of Yoji getting killed because of his body's ridiculous obsession with Schuldig.

Though maybe he wasn't the only one with the obsession....

_In his mind, he let me fuck him and begged for more._

The thought bothered him more than he cared to admit.

  


* * *

Aya was Not There as they walked into the trailer too, impossible to talk to, and talking _at_ him was unsatisfying. When he looked at Yoji, he didn't really seem to see him, and that always left Yoji feeling as if he didn't exist. Yoji hadn't seen him go this deeply into his own head for a long time.

Aya came back a little and said, "Yoji...." Yoji waited, but nothing else came out of his mouth. He simply stood there looking a bit lost and very hurt.

"Yeah," Yoji answered.

"I should...." Aya shook his head and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Fujimiya Aya, the great communicator, ladies and gentlemen.

Frustrated and unable to stand being here for a second longer, Yoji went back outside, letting the door slam behind him, not caring whether he woke Ken and Omi up.

  


* * *

Aya stripped off his clothes and changed back to his true form before going into the shower and turning the water on as hot as he could stand it, determinedly not thinking about anything or trying to wash the night off. Once out, he put on a robe and brushed his teeth, still not thinking, not looking at his reflection in the mirror.

When he walked into the bedroom, Yoji wasn't there. The privacy curtain was open and his bed was empty. Was Yoji somewhere in the trailer? Wouldn't Aya hear him if he were? Had he gone out somewhere?

Had he gone to meet Schuldig?

Aya knew he was being ridiculous. He couldn't bring himself to care.

I had Yukio, he thought as he crawled miserably into bed. It's only fair.

He knew he didn't believe it.

_The problem isn't that you're a man or that you do weird shit. It's that you're you._ How could the ability to do freakish sex tricks with his body make up for that? Taking Yoji inside him didn't guarantee that he could keep him.

Sleep was a long time in coming.

  


* * *

"If you're really worried about losing Yoji, I know something you can try," Schuldig purred from the passenger seat. He rested his head back and looked very comfortable.

Aya could remember a time when his dreams were just dreams. Or his nightmares were simply nightmares, which he still preferred to this. "I'm not taking any advice from you! You're the big fucking problem here!" Aya sat in the driver's seat. What a joke.

"Who do you think put Yoji up to moving on you? You wouldn't even have him if not for me."

"How the hell do you figure that?"

"He moved on woman you in the car because I kept paying attention to you and he wanted to get there first. He offered himself to guy you that night because I let him know about our little bit of alley sex. I even let him feel it."

What?

"That's right," Schuldig said. "He knew. You wouldn't have gotten any action from him if not for me."

Yoji knew. Knew and wanted, what, seconds? Wanted to re-stake a claim on him? Wanted to get to Schuldig through him?

"I owe you nothing," Aya growled.

"So I'll give this to you free too. You remember how you were able to ghost Omi through that building. Have you ever tried giving Yoji that sexy rush you get? He'd never stray after that."

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing!"

"Sure, you might hurt him, but a guy like Yoji would see that as a small chance to take considering the payoff."

"I'm not listening to you! You're my fucking rival here, and I'm supposed to take your advice on how to keep him?"

What if Yoji really liked it and only stayed with him for that? He would stop being a person and become some kind of drug. Yoji would be addicted to something only he could provide and be as much a slave to the rushes as he was. The thought made him feel ill.

Besides, Yoji already thought he was a freak, so the proper response was _not_ to offer up more unnatural perversions.

Schuldig leaned across the space between them to breathe, "I don't think you're a freak, Aya," into his ear.

"You're far from objective."

"Think over how much he really means to you and see what you're willing to do." Schuldig put his hand on Aya's thigh. "And, you know, I'm always here."

Aya hit the brakes. "Get out."

The telepath pouted. "Yoji's so much more accommodating." Then he disappeared again.

Aya stopped the car, crossed his arms over the steering wheel, and rested his head against them.

  


* * *

Yoji lay on his back in the grass, eyes closed, one hand under his head and the other holding a cigarette. He was smelling Tokyo.

Though he hadn't been as vocal about it as the others, he had to admit that it was good to be home. In Tokyo, he knew the bars, he knew the clubs, he knew the women. He knew the smells. Tokyo held good memories for him as well as bad ones, and he'd never really felt comfortable anywhere else.

"Very poetic," said a voice from somewhere nearby. Yoji cracked an eye open and saw Schuldig's boots in the grass. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Not really," Yoji said. He took a drag from his cigarette. "He'll get over it. Haven't you noticed the pattern yet? He gets mad at me over something, he sulks, I grovel, we have make-up sex. It works."

"I suppose." Schuldig cocked his head questioningly, and for reasons he didn't quite understand, Yoji gestured for him to sit. Schuldig settled himself gingerly in the grass. Probably wondering how to get grass stains out of white trousers.

The rest of Weiß was asleep in the trailer behind him, not ten meters away. He should be yelling for help.

He didn't.

Hating himself for it, yet feeling vaguely smug about making the gesture, Yoji held out the pack of cigarettes. If Schuldig could pretend they were urbane acquaintances instead of mortal enemies, then so could he, damn it. It was certainly less strenuous.

Schuldig took a cigarette, and as Yoji lit it for him, he wondered how exactly he had gotten to the point where he could sit in the grass next to an evil, amoral telepath and not fear for his life.

He thought of Aya, asleep in the trailer.

He thought, apropos of nothing, that Schuldig would know what it was like to burn his hair on a lit cigarette on a windy day.

He said, "You're not doing anything to my mind, are you."

It wasn't really a question. Schuldig answered anyway. "All you, darlin'."

"Good." Yoji stubbed his cigarette out in the wet grass, leaned forward, and very deliberately kissed Schuldig.

It was exactly as he had imagined it would be.

After the initial split second of non-reaction-- during which he flattered himself that he had managed to surprise the telepath, and for some reason Schuldig didn't bother disabusing him of that notion-- Schuldig responded with a wild, fierce hunger, his hands coming up to fist painfully in Yoji's hair. That was good. Yoji didn't think he could have handled tenderness.

As he felt himself being pushed back down onto the grass, he realized that Schuldig's voice had so far been remarkably absent in his head.

The kiss lasted for a long time. Eventually Schuldig pulled away, breathing hard. Yoji felt a small thrill of victory at that. Dark blue eyes bored into his, and he had the uncanny sense that Schuldig was staring straight into his brain. Which, in a way, he was. Soft, wild orange hair fell around them like a curtain, trapping them in a cage of silk. Tiger lilies....

Schuldig smirked. "What is this unholy fascination with my hair?"

Annoyed, Yoji reached up, intending to push him off. Schuldig caught his wrists, met his angry scowl, and said solemnly, "You, Kudou, are a consummate florist."

"Flatterer." Yoji yanked fruitlessly at his captured wrists. He had the sinking feeling that he wasn't struggling as hard as he could.

"Of course you're not. You want this. You made the first move, remember? I feel practically molested. Not that I'm complaining, mind."

"Hardly the first," Yoji muttered.

"True, I was asking for it, wasn't I? So tell me, Kudou, what do you want from me?"

"Can't you find out for yourself?"

"I'd like to hear it from you."

Yoji rolled his eyes. "_Now_ you're obtaining consent?"

"Actually, I just like to watch you beg."

Yoji stared up at him, stubbornly mute, and Schuldig chuckled. "I like you. You're easy to read. You're like a picture book full of one-syllable words, set in really big type."

"You're not winning my heart here."

Schuldig purred, "Not the organ I had in mind."

Yoji swallowed. Schuldig was hard. So was he.

Schuldig was lying on top of him, and it felt right.

Weakly he said, "It's been a very good few months for you, hasn't it?"

Schuldig actually seemed to ponder the question. "You know, I've been knocked around quite a bit lately. You and Aya fight dirty."

"Yeah, shame on us."

Schuldig smirked. "But I've had _fantastic_ sex."

Yoji felt himself shudder. Almost afraid to speak, he whispered, "You know what I want."

"What, revenge for Yukio?"

"That's not--"

"No, but it's a part of it. Don't lie to me, Kudou, I'm a fucking telepath. I really wish people would remember that."

"We're not exclusive," Yoji said. "We don't even want to be."

"But Yukio gets a version of Aya you don't get, doesn't she? Even when you're fucking Aya's girl parts, he's still not really a girl for you the way he is for her. So you want me to have a part of you that he doesn't get."

Yoji looked away and shrugged, the best he could while lying on his back. He'd had a lot of practice. "Hey, if you're not up for it--"

Schuldig silenced him with a brutal kiss that drove all of his senses haywire. He pulled back and, as Yoji gasped for air and tried to regain coherent thought, he growled, "I'm _always_ up for it."

"I noticed," Yoji managed to say.

"I'm only gonna ask once, and I wouldn't even do that if I weren't in such a good mood. No changing your mind. Make a decision and stick to it. So what'll it be? Yes or no?"

Yoji stared up at Schuldig, at his fair skin and sharp nose and narrowed blue eyes and blazing hair, and suddenly he felt very, very tired.

He thought, I can't deal with this.

Schuldig gave a disappointed _tsk_ and stood, leaving Yoji sprawled on the grass, disheveled and bereft and yet somehow relieved. "I expected better, Kudou."

"Sorry to disappoint," Yoji muttered, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.

"Oh, that's all right. Contrary to what certain people think, I can be patient if I want. Eventually you're gonna have to admit it to yourself. And when that day comes, I'll be there waiting."

And then, with a smirk: "See you in your dreams."

Then he was gone.

Yoji closed his eyes. Something was opening up inside him, something that felt like a big, empty hole in his chest. He felt hollow, as though he could collapse inward at any given moment.

He should go inside. Go in, jerk off, and try to get some sleep.

Instead he lay on the grass and watched the sky until the sun rose.

Soon after it broke the horizon, Aya walked out, fully dressed and male, and sat beside him. For a long time Aya said nothing. Finally he asked softly, "What did I do wrong this time?" in such a miserable voice that Yoji didn't for a moment mistake it for sarcasm. "I don't make you happy."

"I'm starting to wonder if anyone can. I can't do it myself either." Yoji lit another cigarette. "What happened tonight? You were fine--better than fine--until Mikae brought up Schuldig. He's a pain in the ass, yeah, but it's like the life got ripped out of you. You know he's stalking me too." Feeling perverse, Yoji continued, "Besides, you have that Yoshida girl."

Avoiding his eyes, Aya plucked then methodically shredded a blade of grass, making it give off a sharp, pungent scent as he destroyed it. "I'd give her up. I went to the bar with you as a woman to try to make up for that night with her. So I'd give her up."

Yoji nearly choked. Just give her up, the girl who'd made Aya feel like less of a freak on a night when he'd been a mess. The girl who could put a smile on his face. It would be a huge sacrifice, but Aya was the king of self-denial. Yoji didn't know what to say to that aside from "Let's not go there right now. Just tell me what happened tonight."

Aya took a deep breath. "I know that you're not comfortable with me--"

"What?"

"I won't talk if you interrupt." He sounded tired.

Yoji knew how that felt right now. "Yeah, okay. My lips are sealed."

"I get the feeling that you'd be happier with her." No need to ask whom he meant by 'her,' and Yoji felt a sharp twinge of guilt, because he _had_ thought that. Aya continued, "I thought it might be that you were uncomfortable with me being a man. But Schuldig... let me know that you dreamed about having sex with him and told me that your problem wasn't my gender. It was me."

Even as Yoji squirmed over Aya knowing about that dream too, Yoji couldn't let the rest of it go past without a challenge. "And you believed him that you're the problem?" he asked angrily.

"I know I'm difficult and fucked-up. I know that we wouldn't be here right now if I hadn't caught your eye as a woman. Can you blame me?"

No. Schuldig always knew the tender spots. "When did he say this? No, let me guess, it was the appearance that got us back to Tokyo." The one Aya had refused to talk about. "C'mere."

Aya gave him a wary look, then looked down at the grass again. "I didn't talk about this to--"

"Just get the fuck over here. Lean on me or something."

Aya stiffly leaned against him but gradually relaxed with his head on Yoji's shoulder and Yoji's arm around him. They hadn't solved anything, but knowing what was going on with him had to be a good first step. Had to be.

"You know, it's almost like we're already in some kind of twisted threesome," Aya said. "He's made out with you and had sex with me. We see him and think about him constantly, and we have to factor him into everything we do."

Yoji confessed, "He just came to see me."

"He just came to talk to me in a dream."

"That little shit! What the hell did he say to you?"

"He offered advice on how to keep you. I told him that I'd hardly trust anything he'd have to say on that topic." Aya gave him a sidelong look. "What did you get from your visit?"

No way Yoji would get into that, so he said, "The usual."

"Hnnh." Then Aya sat there in silence, staring ahead, seemingly lost in thought.

"Aya?"

Aya said nothing. Did his eyes have a vaguely psychotic glint to them? Yoji had never loved anyone who could scare him shitless just by sitting quietly before.

"Are you insane?" Schuldig suddenly asked from behind them.

Yoji stood and turned to face him with his fingers ready on his watch. "What?"

The telepath sounded enraged. "Not you. Him!"

"Maybe I am." Aya had a small smile on his face as he stood. "You were still in the neighborhood?"

"Kudou, he intends to kill himself."

"What?" Yoji asked. What the hell was Aya up to now?

"Only if I couldn't kill Schuldig," Aya said.

This had to be a bluff. Had to be. But Schuldig could read Aya's mind and seemed to be taking it very seriously. "What about your sister?" Yoji asked, though of course he was also thinking, What about _me_?

"I would regret what my death would do to her and you, but it would also change everything in a better way."

"Do tell," Schuldig muttered, his arms crossed.

"Yoji would hate me for it, but I'd be dead. You wouldn't be, and he'd be hating you too. I also wouldn't want to get on Omi's bad side. He already wants you dead, but my suicide would turn it into war because he'd know why it happened. Ken wouldn't need any further excuse. They would hunt you down. You wouldn't have any further interest in Aya, because she has no value to you beyond what threatening her would do to me."

Yoji fought the urge to say something, because Aya had to have some kind of plan and he didn't want to accidentally fuck it up. But it was hard to listen to Aya talk like this.

"You do it, I go right for your sister and Yoji."

"I think you'll be too busy for that between Weiß going after you and Crawford being ticked off that one of your games changed things on him so much." Aya smiled in a way that scared Yoji and seemed to unsettle Schuldig a little. "You like games, but I don't. You pushed too far."

Was that panic in his eyes? "I can stop you."

"How much of my mind would you have to rewrite to do that? You have a fetish for forcing us to jump on our own. How much fun would I be lobotomized? Then again, this might be academic, because I might kill you first."

Schuldig had a look on his face that suggested he'd bitten into something sour. "Is there a C, none of the above, option? I don't want to be dead, and for now you're too good a toy to lose. You just about shouted out to me, so you must want to deal."

"That option would be to back the fuck off from me and Yoji. You're in our faces and our dreams and our _heads_ all the time lately. It makes me twitchy, and I don't need to be any more unstable than I am. It's not like everything else is going so well."

"You gonna call off Bombay?"

Schuldig sounded worried about what Omi would do. Kid must be getting dangerous....

"You gonna back off? He doesn't care this much about you when you're not threatening his people."

"I'll lay off you," Schuldig answered with the fakest smile Yoji had ever seen. "If that's what you really want."

"It is."

"Sure it is. You got anything to say, Yoji?"

"I think a break from you would be good."

"You're both so cruel."

"I can fuck up my life and relationship with Yoji just fine without your help," Aya said softly.

Did Schuldig look _hurt_? Nah. "Fine. You'll be bored without me."

"We'll survive."

"One last kiss?"

Aya looked almost torn for a moment but said, "You remember that I said you push things too far."

The telepath smiled. "Whatever. See you around." He walked away with a provocative sway in his step that made his long hair swing. Just as Yoji thought that maybe he could whip his wire out and nail the bastard, Schuldig turned and said, "Give it up, Kudou," before continuing on his way.

"Thanks for trusting me on that," Aya said softly.

Yoji smacked the back of Aya's head. "You really would have done it! You scared the hell out of me."

"It would have been pointless if I hadn't been willing to actually go through with it. I took a chance, figuring that he may kill us in an instant if someone paid him to, but in his own psychotic way he cares about us."

"Big chance." Yoji lit a cigarette. Damn, did he need one. "You know that he's probably figuring out a way around our deal already."

"Yeah, but at least it gives us _some_ time."

"You think I need help hating Schuldig?"

"I think you have as much trouble with it sometimes as I do."

Yoji snorted. "We're having one big night, uh, morning of honesty here, aren't we?"

"We probably shouldn't do it very often. I don't think we could survive it."

"But while we're doing it...."

"Yes?"

"I don't prefer Schuldig to you." Yoji understood now that it had to be said. Who knew that Aya could be so insecure? "I have a twisted lust thing with Schuldig, but so do you, so you shouldn't judge that. You're the one I want to snuggle with and go to bars with and fight with and have fucked up queer sex with. I want you with me no matter what the hell you are today."

Aya had a slight smile on his face, and it wasn't scary at all. "I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's said to me in about two years."

"That's sad."

"I know.

"I'm good for all the things you mentioned except for the bars. I haven't had much luck in bars." Aya leaned against him. "I need to have those kinds of things listed and detailed for me sometimes."

"I get it." Yoji kissed him. Everything would work out somehow. After all, Aya had just gotten Schuldig off their backs for a while, and Yoji never thought that would happen short of someone dying. And Aya was even bantering with him. Hell had to be freezing over.

"You can get a room later," Ken said from the doorway. "We're opening in five minutes."

"I don't usually work this time," Yoji said.

"You're not usually awake at this time, but since you are today, you can make yourself useful."

"I knew I hated mornings."

"How can you hate something you rarely see?"

"I'll get you back for this."

Ken grinned. "Sure, Yoji."

Yoji asked Aya, "You'll help me get back at Ken, right?"

Aya simply looked amused. "For what? You can suffer with the rest of us, Yoji-kun."

  


* * *

Aya smiled as he watched Yoji appeal to their schoolgirl clientele for sympathy. While he knew better than to believe that everything had been settled permanently, he hadn't felt this hopeful in a while, and he'd only had to talk to Yoji and threaten suicide to do it.

Well, Yoji wasn't any less fucked-up than Aya was, really. He just hid it better.

One day at a time. If Yoji could try to be fine with him no matter what the hell he was today, the least he could do was attempt the same.

 

### End


End file.
